


The Fenders Kink Chronicles

by MacBeka, OKami_hu



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Accidental Confession, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Blow Jobs, Body Modification, Bonding, Breast Play, Breastfeeding, Caring, Crossdressing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Docking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Healing, Immobility, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Injury, M/M, Male Lactation, Master/Pet, Masturbation, Nipple Piercings, Rape Fantasy, Rape Roleplay, Reconciliation, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Sex Talk, Sex Toys, Sexual Roleplay, Spells & Enchantments, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-22 13:50:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 134,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11381505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacBeka/pseuds/MacBeka, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OKami_hu/pseuds/OKami_hu
Summary: A serious injury and an unexpected condition forces Fenris and Anders into close quarters. The uneasy camaraderie soon brings a mutual understanding and even more.





	1. Shaken, Not Stirred 1

**Author's Note:**

> We seriously hope you read the tags. Fic is basically unbeta'd, take it or leave it. Or, leave a comment with corrections.

“Hawke! Hawke, open your eyes! How do you feel?”

The world slowly came back into focus. Anders and Isabela were both kneeling next to the warrior with worried expressions. They were both a little worse for wear. Isabela was splattered with blood, her dress torn to ribbons on one side, so half of her lovely bosom was uncovered, but she didn’t seem concerned. Anders was less dirty, aside from a huge bloodstain on his tunic. If one looked closer, it was obvious that the fabric was torn, as if a weapon had penetrated it. The healer’s hand on Hawke was trembling, as well as his lips. 

Slowly, Hawke began to respond, coming back an inch at a time until a strangled noise escaped him. 

“Feels like a dragon sat on me,” Hawke groaned, trying to sit up and failing at first. He let his eyes close for a moment before he cracked them open again. “Bela, why can I see your tit? Not complaining, mind…”

“Did he hit his head?” Isabela inquired with a grin. “Normally, he’d go straight for them.” She shook her shoulders; her assets swayed seductively.

Anders flushed subtly. “Hawke’s cloak will do until we’re back to safety, but in the meantime, please try to behave. Hawke, uh, first, good news: we defeated the demon. Bad news: barely. Isa got stabbed in the thigh and yes, she got scuffed too, you had holes on your chest- it’s a miracle that bastard didn’t stab your heart and-” he swallowed. “I was stabbed in the stomach. It was a stabbity demon.” His voice had the faintest hysteric edge. “I- have no idea where Fenris is, but I hope he can walk because- I’m really, _really_ unwell.”

“He’ll turn up in a minute with his broody gloating, don't worry,” Hawke mumbled. “Help me up and we can find him. He's probably hiding.” 

Hawke forced a smile through the pain as Isabela helped him sit up, and after a moment helped him stand shakily. He couldn't help the sharp anxiety that hit him when he thought of Fenris being lost somewhere. He and the elf had had a _thing_ once, but he still considered the elf one of his best friends. He was sure Bela saw through the facade, though he was grateful that she stayed silent. 

Fenris was lying on the ground a short distance away, not too far from where the demon had first appeared. He looked… Not like Fenris, at least. Hawke and the others could see very little of his dark skin or white lyrium underneath the black and blue of his bruises, the overwhelming red of blood, or the swelling where his arm was turned almost the whole way around. His other arm and one leg weren’t in any better shape. His hair was no longer white; completely stained pink and caked with red in same places. The original color of his hair was hardly visible from the blood that seeped into it. Hawke was sure he was on death's door, without even attempting the journey back. 

The situation became even worse when Anders all but collapsed next to the unmoving elf. The healer’s eyes were wide and his hands shook noticeably. “Shit, shit, _shit_!” His long fingers lightly moved over Fenris’ mangled body, probing here and there. 

“Broken... Broken... Deep wound...” Anders muttered to himself. He grabbed Fenris’ belt and attempted to turn him over, which wasn’t an easy task despite how seemingly frail the elf looked. Once Fenris was on his side, another injury was revealed on the middle of his lower back.

Anders’ breath hitched. “Possible spine injury.” He carefully laid Fenris back. “If that’s not healed soon, he- I mean, if it’s deep enough, he’ll never be able to walk again.”

Hawke had followed as quickly as his dizziness would allow and knelt down on the other side of Fenris, hands trembling. 

“Can you… Are you… Oh, Maker,” Hawke said with a shaky breath. “You can fix it, r-right? I mean, Justice can help too, right? I– We can't…” 

“We have some poultices and potions,” Isabela said, kneeling down with their supply pack. “Anders barely had enough to heal you, Hawke. I think this is the best we can do until we can get back to Kirkwall…”

“And how do we get back?” Hawke snapped, hands curling into fists. “I could carry him, but that could make him worse, couldn't it? How-”

“Shut it!” Anders snapped, then immediately shrunk into himself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean- Th-there’s no Justice. I can’t feel- Well, he’s here, but the demon did something to us and now I’m cut off from his power. Without him, I’m not nearly as strong. I think I still have enough to stabilize Fenris’ worst wound, but he will need all the potions we have. And yes, he should be carried on a stretcher. Isabela, you’re the fastest, can you alert someone? Varric’s a good option.”

Isabela nodded before she darted off, walking quickly rather than running to conserve her energy. Thankfully it wasn't too far. 

“Justice is... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you shout.” Hawke apologised. “We still have a few lyrium potions. Would they be useful? There's only two or three left though. Tell me what to do.”

Anders perked up. “I forgot! Yes, that’ll help. Only one, though… It’s addictive. I’d rather not depend on it.” He dove into the bag and his eyes lit up when he found the vial. He uncorked it, took a deep breath and then downed its contents.

“Maker, it’s been a while.” Anders shuddered from the rush. “Alright, let’s turn him carefully. This, and the open wounds need to be taken care of first.

With Hawke’s help, the unconscious elf was rearranged to lie on his stomach and Anders poured his borrowed power into the wound. “There,” he panted once the light died at his fingertips. “This will hold, he won’t get any worse. Now the wounds.”

“Would it be best to pack them with poultices and tip some healing potion down his throat? There are probably some elfroot leaves nearby that we can lay over the wounds. That helps, right?” Hawke asked, beginning to wish - not for the first time - that he had paid more attention when his father was teaching them all about healing and first aid. “I can find some.” 

At least Fenris seemed to be more relaxed, calmer now. Well, good-calm rather than dying-calm. Hawke was grateful for that if nothing else. 

“We do have some potions. I think if I pour all my magic into him he’ll wake. He won’t choke on the liquid then.” Anders seemed to have improved a little, too. Possibly his calling as a healer overshadowed his personal misery for now. “It won’t be a perfect job, Fenris will require extensive aftercare… But he’ll live. And very possibly walk.” 

The elf was lying on his back now. After a momentary hesitation, Anders gently bent the twisted limbs back into a more appropriate position. It had an alarming reaction; Fenris twitched and moaned painfully. Anders quickly fed the rest of his magic into the injuries, and then leaned on his arms to catch his breath. “If you want to help-” he addressed Hawke, “Find me some sturdy wood, to stabilize his bones. I think his shoulder was twisted, and his thighbone may be shattered. I can only hope his hipbone is intact. Maker, I’ll be boiling tea by the gallon for a week.”

Hawke wanted to laugh or make a joke to ease the tension, but he just nodded and stood, leaving to try and find some appropriate bits of wood. When he returned, it was with some long sticks that could be broken into pieces. They were strong. Strong enough that with two of them holding a bone in place, it should heal correctly. They could always find something better another time. No doubt Anders had specially designed materials in his clinic. 

“How long do you reckon Bela will be?” Hawke asked hesitantly. 

“Please don’t make me think of anything else aside my job,” Anders pleaded in a small voice. “I’m barely holding myself together.” His hands were busy splinting the mangled limbs. “You have no idea how it feels. I’ve had Justice in me for years now and-” Anders’ breath hitched. “It’s like being separated by an ice wall… I can see him but there’s no contact. I have no idea how long it’ll last or what will happen… What if it’s permanent? I won’t be able to maintain my clinic!” The previously acquired calm was slipping away fast as Anders worried himself into a panic attack. He tied the last knot on the strip of bandage and sat back, curling his arms around himself.

“I have an obligation. I need his power, I feel so empty and alone…”

Hawke came to sit next to him quickly, pulling the tall mage into his lap and smiling a little at the awkwardness their height differences caused. “It's okay, deep breaths. Deep breaths… You are more than Justice, more than your magic. You're my good friend, and I love you. It's going to be okay.”

Anders cuddled close, curling his fingers into Hawke’s clothes and trying to breathe. “Wh-what do you mean I’m more than my magic, that’s bullshit. I’m no use in battle. And who will heal your sorry asses?” It looked like the close contact worked though. By the time Anders stopped gasping, Fenris was slowly coming to himself as well. 

“Battle isn't everything either, Anders,” Hawke reminded. “Sometimes we lose all our coin to Fenris, Bela or Varric in Wicked Grace. Sometimes we have to find reasons for why we let mages go when we were supposed to kill them. Come on, Fenris looks like he's waking up.” 

Fenris stirred silently, eyes cracking open slightly. His mouth opened a little but no sound came out, not even a groan. 

Anders took a deep breath and slipped out of Hawke’s lap, throwing a thankful glance at the warrior. He began to check Fenris, very carefully pushing down on his chest and abdomen, searching for further injuries. 

“Can you hear me?” Anders asked. “I suppose your entire body hurts. We have a few potions, those will help somewhat.”

Fenris grunted in response, swallowing to try and get his throat moist enough to talk. When he did manage to force words out he asked “What happened?” 

“There was a demon, a strong one. It's dead now, but it dealt you some serious damage. Anders managed to save you though.” Hawke said, putting more emphasis than necessary on the fact that Anders was the one who did the saving. 

Fenris was too tired and pained for anything beyond a quiet, hoarse: “Thank you, mage.”

“Don’t thank me.” Anders’ voice broke and he hesitantly brushed a few strands of hair from Fenris’ forehead. Hawke could see the healer bite his lower lip.

“You sustained quite a few injuries,” Anders continued. “The demon most probably caught you around the middle. You have broken bones, one deep wound and a lot more minor ones. Also, don’t try to move, and especially don’t try to stand!” He fetched the potion and gently held Fenris’ head so he’d be able to drink. “Isabela is on her way with help. We’ll take you to the mansion and I’ll stay with you for a while. You need magic and medicine both. Your spine was injured, too. I’m fairly sure I managed to stabilize your overall condition though, but… Well, let’s hope the Maker favors you.”

Fenris had zoned out about halfway through the explanation, only paying attention when he was made to drink the potion. He was too tired for long conversations and didn't hear that the mage would be staying with him. Even if he had, he simply didn’t have enough energy to argue the point. 

It wasn't much later that Isabela returned, with Varric and some of the dwarf’s minions, carrying a stretcher. 

“Don't die on us, elf.” Varric joked, even when his tone and face were painted with concern. 

“He won’t.” Anders assured him. “Lesser men would be dead by now, but our friend here is stubborn. Load him on that stretcher very carefully. I did what I could but let’s not take chances.” 

The lackeys - two strong human guys - eased Fenris onto the sturdy canvas and began to walk. The rest of the company followed; Isabela at Hawke’s side while Varric conversed quietly with Anders. The healer didn’t look particularly happy, but it was understandable. 

Once they reached the unofficial borders of Hightown, Anders turned to Hawke. “Fenris is a proud man, let’s take him to his mansion. I’ll stay with him until he’s back on his feet. I have no idea in what shape that place is… I’ll need the kitchen in a working order, would you accompany me there, Varric? You can fetch craftsmen, if need be. Hawke, I hate to do this, but I’ll need money. Or I can give you an extensive shopping list. It’ll likely involve a trip to the Gallows market… They have the best herbs.”

“Don't worry about it, you can have whatever you need,” Hawke said with a shrug that made him wince. His wound might be healed but there was still tightness in his muscles. “I’ll send some over with a runner later, alright? I need a nap right now. Let me know how Fenris gets on.” 

Varric watched Hawke go, dragging Isabela behind him, the woman throwing them a grin and a wink. The dwarf rolled his eyes and directed the men carrying Fenris to the elf’s mansion. 

He was not prepared for the chaos that lay within the entrance hall. There were mushrooms growing from the carpet, and was that... _That_ was a skeleton in the corner. 

“We can get all this cleaned up for when the Elf wakes up. Won't take too long, I'm sure.” Varric said hesitantly. 

“Maybe we should hire a few refugee women.” Anders shuddered visibly. “This place is a mess. I have no idea how anyone can live here. Maker, I hope he sleeps on this floor. I don’t dare to take the stairs.” He glanced at the guys waiting patiently. “Could you stay here for a little while? We’ll find someplace to put him.”

The lackeys merely nodded with a stoic expression. They were probably really good at lurking in the back of an office staring at visitors who, most likely, owed money to Varric. 

The bedroom was, thankfully, located on the ground floor. It was in a marginally better shape: the floor had been swept, with only a few surviving cobwebs in a corner, and the bed was made. The air was also reasonably less dusty and stuffy inside, showing that the elf indeed used the room.

“Fenris is going to kill me once he’s able to.” Anders commented, sourly. 

“And how'd you reckon that? He's a good man, no matter what kind of shit he says.” Varric said with a shrug. “Shall we put him on the bed? You know best, healer. We do what you say.” 

Varric came over and patted Anders on the back. 

“I'll get a cot set up nearby for you. In here’s big enough but there's place outside the bedroom.”

“Thank you.” Anders brushed a hand against his forehead. “I would’ve slept on the ground if you didn’t propose that. Just send over everything, really. If you can get your hands on a few lyrium potions, those’ll be handy, too.” He’d explained to the dwarf what sort of state he was in during the trek there. 

“As to why I’m a dead man… Place him on the ground for now. Help me first.” Anders turned to the guys. “We need to get him out of the armor, and his clothes. I’m afraid the latter needs to be cut off.”

“We can probably replace them before he wakes up. Armour will take more repair though, it went right through.” Varric mumbled, waiting for the men to put the stretcher on the ground. He knelt beside the resting elf, taking the opportunity to look at his wounds again. They seemed better than they had been when he'd turned up; the potions doing a little more than Anders could with his magic at the moment. 

“It’ll be best to leave him naked until he can properly move.” Anders shook his head a little. “I need access to the wounds and every other day I’ll clean him up a little. In fact, the blood needs to be washed off… Maker, why does it have to be so difficult. Let’s just focus on one thing at a time.”

Fenris’s dark skin was bared soon, armor pieces set neatly aside. In the end, the clothes were spared; Anders realized that Fenris’ tunic could be completely undone and after a bit of awkward fumbling, the leggings slipped off the slender hips as well. The elf was placed on the bed with a blanket over him as Anders carefully explained Varric what he needed from the clinic. 

Until the supplies arrived there wasn’t much to do, so Anders reluctantly left his patient’s side to inspect the kitchen. It was in a decent shape; the fireplace could have used some cleaning, but there was some dried wood next to it. There was a pot in the cupboard and the well in the tiny backyard was full. 

Anders lit a fire to boil water and braved the mansion for other necessities. From time to time, he nervously kept rushing back to the bedroom, in case the elf came to himself. 

Fenris surfaced from his wounded slumber once, looking around in confusion, but was pulled back under by exhaustion. His body needed to rest in order to heal. An hour or two later, he was feeling better and when he opened his eyes next, they stayed open. Where were his clothes? Where was his armour? He panicked suddenly, thinking that perhaps he'd been caught by slavers or– No, this was his bedroom, the one room in the whole mansion he bothered to clean beside the kitchen. 

Pain hit Fenris when he tried to move, gasping at the feeling of his muscles screaming in complaint. He lay still, breathing a little more heavily, and waited for whoever was looking after him to return.

Guided by the instinct mothers and healers possess, Anders soon poked his head into the room and immediately rushed to the bed when he realized the elf had come to. “Fenris! How are you feeling? Any nausea, pain- I mean, pain that particularly stands out? Also, don’t move. You’ve been mangled. It’ll take some time until you can get up, but I’ll keep an eye on you.” His nervousness prompted him to babble, but he suppressed the urge. Fenris was probably still dizzy.

“What happened?” Fenris asked hoarsely, trying to clear his throat before he continued. “I feel… A little broken.” he admitted with a small smile to himself. “Not as broken as I was before, I'm sure…”

“Uh, yes. Do you remember the fight with the demon? We all sustained serious injuries.” Anders explained. “You were a little worse off, and you’re still pretty much broken, make no mistakes. Everything on your left is a mess and you got a blow to your back as well. Try moving your right leg, please.”

“The fight is... Vague.” Fenris said, carefully. He remembered very little. He remembered snapping at Isabela about _something_ , and then the demon’s appearance, but then– Nothing. It was hardly a new feeling for Fenris. 

Focusing on Anders’ instruction, he tried to move his foot at first, rolling his ankle around slowly. When he managed that, he lifted his knee a little, hissing in pain as soon as the movement of his muscles pulled on his back. 

“The pain is a good sign, right?” Fenris asked with a soft whimper in his voice that he hated, hands curling into fists at the weakness he had displayed in front of the mage. It was worse than the near dying, being perceived as weak beyond physical pain. 

“Yes, yes, now stop moving altogether!” Anders wiped his brow. “Maker, thank you. I’ve never thought I’d be so relieved that you’re fine- ish.” He settled down on the edge of the bed very carefully. “You might have hit your head as well, that’d explain the memory loss. I’ll get to it first thing tomorrow. Unfortunately, you’ll have to content with my presence for the upcoming week or so. Don’t worry, I’ll leave you to your rest. After such injuries, most people sleep for half a day… Your resilience is impressive. Can you listen to me for a while longer?”

“I… May I have a glass of water?” Fenris asked, loath as he was to ask the mage for anything. His hand clenched in anger - mostly at himself - before gasping loudly in pain, his broken arm not quite healed enough for that. “ _Venhedis_. I… I can listen.”

“Aside your tendency to ignore my words, you’re doing rather well-” Anders smiled. “I’m not sure if it’s the disorientation or your usual charming disposition. Anyway, I’ll be right back with the water.” Indeed, it took barely thirty heartbeats and he was back with a tall cup. Anders gently lifted Fenris’ head and tipped the cup, so the elf could sip the water.

“I know you probably feel uncomfortable with the situation,” Anders murmured. “I bet you hate to be helpless. But for once… Don’t feel bad. Half of your body is in pieces and- I can’t do much about it right now. I’m sorry… I’ll do everything to get you back on your feet as soon as possible.”

“I've seen you bring people back from the brink of death, mage.” Fenris said, sounding much better after the drink. “Why can you not heal this? I agree that the wounds are extensive, but there must be something.” 

The elf’s words were beginning to run together ever so slightly as exhaustion hit him again, trying its best to send him back to sleep. 

“Remember my friendly demon?” Oddly enough, Anders didn’t try to defend the entity living inside him. “I use his power to heal. At the moment, I don’t have access to it, and I already used up all my own magic to heal you and the others. I have to rest a lot to be able to cast spells again. As soon as I can, I’ll fix a part of you. It’ll just take longer.” He sighed. “Stay awake for a few moments, we still have a potion. It won’t do much for the fractures, but it’ll help to keep the swelling and infections at bay, and also lessen the pain.”

Anders set the cup on the bedside table and fetched the potion. “Maybe I’ll tell Hawke to buy a bunch of these.” he mused as he tipped the vial to pour the liquid between Fenris’ lips. “That’s good. Careful. Alright, now sleep.” His cool hand swept over the elf’s forehead in a featherlight caress. 

Fenris was gone as soon as Anders finished speaking. 

As he slept, the potion worked on his body. The swelling around his fractures lessened significantly - the elf would have to remember himself that the bones were broken - and the pain eased enough, so that the next time he woke, he slipped from unconsciousness slowly, stirring awake more naturally. 

The air was fresh and sunlight streamed into the room through the half-open curtainless window, signaling a rather lovely morning in the often-grim city. Some five steps from the bed, Anders was sleeping soundly in a cot, still fully clothed and curled up. His thin blanket lay in a heap on the floor. While asleep, he looked a little younger, perhaps because the lines of stress on his face eased. 

Fenris used the opportunity to look at the mage. He looked less bitter in his sleep than he did when awake, and the irritating spark of attraction that rushed through him at said thought annoyed him. It annoyed him in the same way that it _had_ been annoying him for the past six months, at increasing intensities. Anders was beyond infuriating, but he was selfless - as shown by the fact that he was here - and he cared about everyone a very great deal.

The gold of Anders’ hair made Fenris want to bury his hands in it. Fenris was sure it would be soft. Like feathers, or… He didn't know of many soft things, but he would have liked to be able to touch it. As it was, Fenris couldn't even move his leg without pain; getting up and going to the mage was impossible. 

Perhaps the healer’s instincts registered the change. Anders’ eyes snapped open after twenty heartbeats and he immediately sat up, blinking a little. “Are you awake?” he questioned, squinting at the elf. “That’s good. How are you feeling?” He stood, a little uncertain, then yawned and approached the elf with a slight stumble. It looked like he wasn’t hundred percent awake just yet.

The breath caught in Fenris’ throat. Sleepy Anders was adorable, there was no other word for it. He scowled and shoved the feeling down. He was delirious, it was the only explanation. 

“Fine.” Fenris said, faster than necessary. “The potion did its job.”

“Splendid.” Anders rubbed his eyes. “I need some water. I’m not myself in the morning.” He stretched a little, rolling his shoulders. “I’m not much of a cook, but I can make some soup… You shouldn’t eat anything heavy while you’re healing. I didn’t get to clean you up properly yesterday, I should probably do that now… Your hair is a real mess. I suppose you can choose which part of you I should heal. There are plenty of options.”

“Being able to use my hand would be welcome.” Fenris said. “If some of your magic has returned, that would be appreciated.” He scowled. “I can hardly move, how do you propose to wash me? And how long must I remain naked?”

“Until you’re able to dress on your own,” Anders grinned. “It’s not like anyone aside the healer is going to peek under your blanket. Also, let me tell you that washing an injured man is not dumping them into a tub and pouring water over their heads. It’s done with a damp cloth, because injured people have limited range of movement.” Some of his usual smugness was back in his smile. 

“You have two hands, though.” Anders continued. “Your left arm is broken, while your right shoulder got sprained. The demon really did a number on you. I think it could assess us very correctly. It messed with my head, then stabbed me in the stomach.” His hand crept to his middle, where the fabric was stiff with blood. “Isabela was stabbed in the thigh, and you were rendered useless in battle. Hawke had holes in his chest. As I told them, it was a stabbity demon.”

“‘Stabbity’?” Fenris questioned, a smirk turning up the corners of his lips. “You should change, mage. You are filthy. There is a Darktown exit in the cellar if you need to gather more clothes from your clinic. I will live for ten minutes without supervision.”

“I won’t be standing by your bedside while I’m in the kitchen making lunch…” Anders made a face. “But yes… I need my other shirt. Water first though.” He yawned again and headed off. 

His absence stretched to double the time, but eventually Anders returned, looking awake, but just as stressed as normally. He had a small bag with him when he checked on Fenris. “Still alive? I got held up.”

“Held up?” Fenris questioned. “But yes, I'm still alive. Tired and in pain, but alive. Thanks to you. I don't know if I did thank you. For saving my life. For volunteering to take care of me…”

“It’s not as if anyone else could have done it.” Anders slouched to the bed and plopped down, head lowered. “I’m the only healer in the group. Well, perhaps Merrill could knit your bones together… I’ll let that sink in.” He sighed and picked at the fabric of his bag. “Hawke said I’m more than my magic, but look at me… If I could use Justice’s power, you’d be fine already. Also… after the battle… I had to heal myself, then Isabela limped up to me and then I saw Hawke- I forgot about you.” He pressed a hand against his face. “If someone hadn’t packed a lyrium potion, you most probably would be disabled by now. Thank the Maker someone had insight. By the way, I ran into some refugees. Had to tell them to make do without me for a while. Err, also told them to bring emergencies here. Then again, all that’d accomplish is that they’ll die in Hightown.” 

Fenris was quiet for a moment. He didn't like the idea of the mage carrying out his clinic in the mansion, but with Anders staying here for a few days at least, he could hardly go and run his shelter in Darktown even if he used the cellar entrance. 

“Do what you must,” Fenris said simply. After a second, he continued, “I am glad to not be disabled.”

“Most would share your opinion,” the healer nodded as he stood. “And while I’m not fond of your other opinions, I must admit… I’m glad that you weren’t more gravely injured. You belong to battle, waving that sword around. Losing that ability and being confined to a chair…” He shuddered. “It’s not an attractive thought.” He glanced back at the elf and smiled a little. “I’ll be right back with my magic.”

Indeed, it didn’t take long for him to change. Anders also discarded his coat and now that he was only wearing a simple tunic it became apparent how painfully thin he was. He also carried a tray with breakfast and another potion. He placed it on the nightstand, then sat down and rubbed his hands. “You said you wanted your arm back, right? I’ll do the broken one. The other will still hurt, but you can use it.” 

Fenris was stunned to silence at the sight of Anders in his simple clothes. He was so… skinny. Thin or slim didn't even begin to cover it, he was _skinny_. Why? He had the power to take over the city single-handedly, yet he clearly didn't even eat enough to pad his ribs out let alone anything else. How he had the energy to fight with Hawke, or run a clinic, or free mages, let alone all three, was anyone's guess. 

Fenris decided to question it. “Why are you so thin, mage? It isn't healthy.”

Anders blinked, clearly taken aback by the question. “Well, I- As you might have heard, I was - am - a Gray Warden. The Joining changes us, Wardens get hungry more often and consume more food. It’s just, as you also might know, I run my clinic free of charge. Whatever I win on Wicked Grace or if I have a patient who actually pays, most goes to herbs, bandages and the like. I lead a busy life, I sometimes forget to eat. Justice, while a valuable ally, isn’t perfectly well-versed on human needs, either.” He shrugged. “As someone put it once, I’m trying to upkeep a ‘sexy tortured look’.”

“If you're not careful, it'll become less sexy and more of a dying, desperate mage look.” Fenris grumbled. Not that Anders didn't look good anyway but– 

Why was Fenris worrying about the mage? Why did it matter? Because Anders was important to Hawke. No other reason. He did still make it his goal to make Anders eat more. 

“Then you should eat now.” Fenris said. “There is plenty of food and I have enough coin lying about for more.”

“Oh, I’m looking forward to deplete your secret fortune.” Anders grinned. “You need to eat too. And I should cast a diagnosis spell to see if you’ll suddenly start coughing up blood.” He pulled the blanket off the elf. “I know, I know, ‘what are you doing, mage’ and you hate showing off your skin, but I’m not doing this for my own enjoyment, neither to torment you. I have to put my hands on your body, this type of magic works better that way. You probably won’t feel anything, as the spell doesn’t _do_ anything aside telling me what exactly inside you is damaged.” Anders paused for a moment. “Are you alright with that?”

“If in return you promise to eat,” Fenris said after a moment of thought. He smirked triumphantly. He hadn't planned on complaining about Anders’ magic, apart from a warning that if he overstepped his boundaries Fenris would cut off his hands. He decided to keep that to himself, unsure how true it was anyway. He doubted he could do it; Hawke wouldn't allow it. 

“I’m going to eat you out of your wealth,” Anders promised cheekily. He placed one hand on Fenris’ forehead, and flattened the other over the pit of the toned stomach. “If against any logic it hurts, don’t suffer in silence. I’ll end the spell.” Anders closed his eyes and concentrated. His hands grew pleasantly warm and faint vibrations spread out from his fingertips. Also, there was a faint sound, an unrecognizable melody lingering in the air.

Fenris gasped in surprise, lyrium lighting in a flash as it reached to the magic in Anders’ touch. The soft melody was comforting, like a mother’s lullaby or rain on the hard ground outside. Fenris had to close his eyes. For the first time, he felt peaceful. However, when he heard his name ever so quietly in a voice that definitely wasn't Anders’ he freaked out, slapping the mage's hand away from his forehead automatically, crying out in pain when he realised he'd used his broken arm. 

“No, stop, please,” he begged. 

“What! What happened?” Anders leaned closer, genuine worry flashing in his eyes. “Did it hurt you? I didn’t think it would… I’ve healed you before and you never- And you’re waving that arm around. Should I heal it, or are you going to chance just potions?”

Fenris took a deep breath to calm himself, letting his eyes close briefly. Anders was waiting for a response. He was offering just to give him potions, but that could take weeks to heal even the smaller fracture in his arm. The magical healing was the best option, even if… Even if Fenris knew the reaction that his body would provide. It would be bad enough if he were wearing his leggings and armour, but naked in bed wouldn't give him anywhere to hide if… _Fuck_ , he thought to himself. 

“My apologies,” Fenris grumbled. “Just… Heal it, quickly, please.” He pulled the covers back up with his working arm, gritting his teeth against the pain. 

Anders spread his arms and shook his head with a disbelieving look. Few of his patients had such an open disregard of his advices. He rounded the bed and gently pulled the broken arm forth. He knelt so he could reach it better then called his power forth and poured the restorative energy into the broken bones. Subtly, they shifted closer without causing further pain, then they knit together, until the fracture simply vanished. 

Anders released the elf and laughed a little. “There you go, one arm, good as new. Now you have something to beat me up with.”

Fenris had squeezed his eyes shut as soon as Anders had started, his thighs pressing together of their own accord and his lips clamping shut against the whimper that threatened to escape him when he felt Anders’ healing magic flow through his veins. His lyrium lit up, only opening him up to the magic further. It tingled through his veins and made his skin crawl in a way that shouldn't have felt as wonderful as it did. 

When Anders was done, Fenris didn't move. His eyes, mouth, legs all clamped shut, his cock already near completely hard. He felt ashamed. Anders was trying to help - with magic, no less - and Fenris was reacting to him like some pathetic teenage boy. It was _embarrassing._

At least, Anders didn’t seem to notice. His hand briefly touched Fenris’ shoulder. “I guess you’re more sensitive now because there are a lot of injuries. I’m sorry that you have to endure more discomfort… Breathe. Have a potion for it. It’ll probably help your other shoulder too. Let’s just… eat, then you’ll rest, I’ll do my work and we’ll get around to more healing later, if that’s alright.”

The touch to Fenris’ shoulder made him want to whimper all over again. Anders’ hands felt scorching hot. When he took a breath, it was ragged and shaky but - thank the Maker - it wasn't obviously from arousal. He was glad for that at least. He nodded silently at Anders’ words, calming down and relaxing slowly. 

“You must eat too, mage,” Fenris said, voice more normal. 

“Your humor is coming back, that’s a good sign,” Anders remarked dryly and settled down with a straight back, then started buttering a slice of bread. “I am aware that I need food to survive, thank you. When I don’t eat, it’s because I lack the time or the means. Now, I’m teeming with both while guarding your sorry ass.”

“Then you should find the time and the means. If you don't, I will do it for you,” Fenris threatened with a grumble. “Once I am better.”

Fenris smiled a little. He enjoyed this back-and-forth with the mage. He didn't like their arguing, but he did enjoy the banter they could have. 

“Ugh.” Anders stuck his tongue out a little, and he didn’t seem amused the slightest. “Anyway. Before you interrupted my spell, it told me a few things. You actually have a concussion, but the effects don’t show, because of the potions. That’s nothing life-threatening though, your head’s messed up anyway. Your sprained shoulder was set right immediately after the battle, but the damage is done. I’ll save that for last, the potions will help it. Now, your left thigh bone is in pieces. There’s an almost open wound on your hip and I think the hipbone is cracked too. You’re covered in bruises, I’m sure there’s a cut somewhere on your head, judging by the amount of dried blood in your hair and interestingly enough, there are claw marks on your neck. By some miracle, the lyrium lines are intact though.” He took a bite from the bread. “Your thigh will require the most effort. Until the hipbone is healed, you won’t be able to stand. I’d also like to strengthen your spine. That’s at least three days worth of magic. I have less mana than I should have… The demon was a clever one. I’m so glad it’s dead.”

“I don't remember most of the fight. Perhaps that is the concussion?” Fenris asked, not wanting to believe that he had been too weak to see the fight through to the end. “There is a throbbing in my head, under my hair. I don't know. I would… like to rest again though. If there's nothing we can do about my thigh and hip at this moment, then it must wait and there's not much point in worrying overly much. Will it get worse?”

“I’m sure that if you drink a potion every day, it’ll keep you stable,” Anders nodded. “I’ll make more, but they cost mana, too… I still have enough to treat a flesh wound though. I’ll look at your head but your nether regions are probably worse off.” He tore a piece from the intact end of his slice of bread and offered it to Fenris. “I’ll go boil water, chop herbs, cook lunch, you’ll be able to rest until midday.” He smiled a little. “I admit, I was busy staying alive in the battle, but I vaguely recall you lighting your lyrium and charging the demon. Take it like this: it had to crush you to eliminate the threat.”

“I suppose so…” Fenris mused quietly, grateful that talking about demons had made his burgeoning erection go away. At least that made him feel better about himself. He would _not_ enjoy the touch of magic, even if it was Anders’ spirit healing. “If you need anything, it is either in here or the kitchen. Feel free to search.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take all the liberties, since you can’t stop me,” Anders grinned. “Besides, one of Varric’s runners is bound to come over with supplies and I expect Hawke to pay a visit. That reminds me. If you want to pay for the health care expenses, you’ll need to tell me where you keep the money. After you’ve eaten something.” The piece of bread was pressed against Fenris’ lips. “Sustenance provides strength and encourages faster recovery. Also, drink before you start napping, regardless of the consequences.”

Fenris rolled his eyes but took the bread, biting into it. The minute the bread hit his tongue he realised just how hungry he was, his stomach rumbling. “The money is under those floorboards there,” he said, pointing to a couple of boards that didn't look out of place at all. “Take whatever you need, I think it's all sovereigns.”

“Impressive,” Anders nodded. “Now- let me get you more comfortable.” He stood and pulled the blanket off Fenris, folding it into a pillow. “This will hurt a little, but you’re tough.” He leaned close. “Grab my neck. Wait, no! No, no, no, grab my _shoulders_.” He snickered. “I’ll pull you up so you can sit.”

Fenris looked at Anders suspiciously for a moment before slowly doing as he was told, gripping the mage’s shoulders tightly and preparing for the pain of movement. He shivered at their proximity, the lyrium in his skin tingling in reaction to such powerful magic even if Anders wasn’t using it and it lay dormant for the moment. “I have little to buy; the money from our adventures with Hawke just goes under the floorboard.”

“I accept donations.” Anders carefully pulled Fenris into the right position. “Support yourself with your arms. That’s good, hold it.” He quickly shoved the folded blanket behind the elf for support. “Now you can recline, and eat properly. I can hear your stomach grumbling. I made tea, would you like some?” He walked to his cot and picked up his blanket to drape it over Fenris.

Fenris didn’t say anything at first, though he did make a mental note of the fact that Anders took donations. 

“Tea would be appreciated,” Fenris said. He didn’t have the patience to brew his own tea most of the time so it would be a nice treat, he supposed. He took some more of the food that Anders had brought, biting into it and scoffing down quite a bit of it.

Anders returned with two mugs, then the rest of the meal progressed in silence. Anders ate with a good appetite, fast but with manners; he didn’t let even a morsel go to waste. 

Once everything was cleared away, Anders carried out the dishes, made Fenris drink the last potion then helped him lie back. “That’s a nice bed you have here… I’d fill it with blankets and pillows but that’s just me, apparently. Now rest. The potion will work better while you’re asleep. I’ll be near. If you need something, just call me.”

Fenris nodded a little, already beginning to fall asleep. The combined effects of the potion, a full stomach and simple exhaustion sent him off quickly to a dreamless sleep. Resting for a few hours, Fenris woke slowly, coming back to his senses an inch at a time until he was opening his eyes. He felt much better, the potion lessening the pain in his shoulder and wrist. He looked around slowly for Anders, curious as to where the mage was. 

Anders wasn’t in sight, but if the rather appetizing scent of food lingering in the air was any indication, he was in the kitchen. There were also subtle changes all over the room; Anders’ cot was in immaculate order, his coat folded on top of it. A thin book lay on the nightstand, along with a vial, which had a more ornate design than the standardized potion bottles. 

Fenris’ keen ears also caught a faint noise; notes from a song he didn’t recognize. Anders was humming to himself while preparing whatever was cooking over the fire.

Fenris had been about to call for the mage before he noticed the smell of food. He paused a moment to breathe in deeply, enjoying the scent. That was when the humming registered in his mind. Slowly, he relaxed back against the bed, allowing his eyes to close as he just lay still, enjoying the sound of Anders’ humming. Usually he would complain of the mage’s incessant noise-making (not that he would mean it to begin with) but without the mage around, he was free to enjoy it. 

For once, it seemed his instincts failed to warn Anders; his voice rose, and surprisingly, his performance wasn’t unpleasant.

“With a glint in her blue eyes, her rosy hand beckoned / The spell was cast on me, like a fool I went along.” He paused there for a while, then a little quieter, more uncertainly, that made Fenris strain his ears to catch the words, he sung again. “With a glint in his green eyes, his dusky hand beckoned / he weaved the darkest spell to forge the sweetest bond.”

Fenris felt the chuckle at the end more than he heard it. The singing was over and silence settled on the mansion, with the faintest background noises underneath.

Fenris was quiet. Anders was… not a bad singer, surprisingly. And what was that he’d been singing? Green eyes and dusky skin? Automatically, Fenris assumed it was about him, but why would the mage be singing songs about him? He scowled and rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. He was imagining things, he was sure. He was tired and in pain, even as the potion did its job. He waited for a little while before calling out. 

“Anders?“

The sound of footsteps quickly grew louder, until Anders entered with a smile. “Hey. Is everything alright? It’s about midday, if you feel like it, we can eat.” He tipped his chin up proudly. “I don’t want to boast but I think I’ve outdone myself.”

Fenris snorted in amusement, but was smiling as he said, “We’ll see about that, mage. I am hungry and ready to eat. Would you… join me?”

There was a brief pause before Anders shrugged with a small smile. “Sure. I’ll bring the bowls. And you drink that water on the nightstand.” He went back to the kitchen then returned a little later with the familiar tray, which now held two steaming bowls. 

“Chicken soup, lightly spiced with vegetables and noodles… In Ferelden, we call it ‘poured noodles’, I don’t think you’ve eaten anything like this before. Nothing special though, just a bit weird looking. There’s a bit of well-cooked meat in it, so it’ll be perfect for you. Also, I’ve raided your wine cellar, and while I think red wine isn’t the best suited for such a meal, you can have a glass after you ate. It’s a medicine in small doses.”

Fenris looked up from the water he’d been sipping. “A glass? Are you being serious, mage?” He didn’t look impressed at all. “I usually go through at least a bottle a day.” 

Huffing in annoyance, he took his bowl and spoon, poking the meat with the spoon like a child having a tantrum after their favourite toy was taken away. It wasn't an entirely inaccurate simile. 

“No, you fucking don’t,” Anders sighed in exasperation as he settled down and took his own bowl. “I’ve never even seen you drunk in the Hanged Man, and don’t try to tell me their cat piss isn’t strong enough. It might be cat piss, but it’s strong cat piss. You just secretly enjoy this certain image, but whether it is the broody, depressed drunk or the incorrigible, trashy drunk, I cannot tell.” 

Fenris raised an eyebrow at him. “I find it difficult to get drunk. Whether that’s just natural or because of the lyrium, I don’t know. Shut up and eat, mage,” Fenris grumbled, sampling the soup. He was not only pleasantly surprised at the taste, but also by just how hungry he was. 

“Apparently we share a few traits,” Anders shrugged. “Ever since I joined with Justice, I can’t get drunk. Hmm. Maybe I should try now. You get a glass of wine, I’ll drink the rest.” He held the bowl close to his mouth and ate as always: with manners but fast. 

“Is drinking my wine payment for looking after me?” Fenris asked, lips twitching into a brief smirk. “I suppose that’s fair, although I imagine you’re incredibly annoying when you’re drunk. More annoying than you are anyway,” he said with a small grin, practically breathing in the soup, he was that hungry. 

“I don’t even remember when I was last drunk,” Anders mused. “It was probably at Vigil’s Keep. Maybe after the siege of Amaranthine? Seems like a lifetime ago… There’s more of that soup in the pot, you don’t need to eat like someone’s going to take it from you…” he trailed off at the end, most possibly realizing that he probably wasn’t far from the truth.

The words made Fenris hesitate, but he did eat a bit more slowly. “Habit, I suppose, even now. I’ve never had the luxury of predictable meals. But thank you. It’s delicious, by the way. I wouldn’t mind learning how to make it, if you have the time to teach me.”

Anders cocked his head to the side. “You’d be willing to put up with me for that long? Maker, it’s the concussion talking.” He smiled. “I think I’ve spotted a cookbook on Hawke’s shelf, he’ll let you borrow that. Once you have the basics down pat- I mean, have you ever cooked anything? If no, it’s not difficult. If yes, you can probably learn a few Fereldan dishes… They’re simple but substantial.”

“How long would it take?” Fenris asked, raising an eyebrow. “As for the cooking, Danarius had me learn most dishes so he didn’t have to take any extra slaves when we went to Seheron.” That simple sentence opened up memories that he hadn’t thought about in a very long time, and he just couldn’t get the words to stop: “When I was still learning, I once dropped a pot, spilled the broth everywhere. He beat me for it, said it was for wasting food and cracking a tile on the floor. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it anyway, and the food he would waste at a banquet could likely keep all of the slaves in the house well-fed for at least half a year.”

Anders was silent for a couple of heartbeats. “Your Danarius… simply isn’t a good man, mage or not. Reminds me of a few Templars I knew… Once there was this little streak of mischief going on at the Circle. It wasn’t my doing but I was the prime suspect. So they beat up my best friend as a warning. Blackened his eye, broke his arm. He had done nothing wrong but they wanted to send a message. I guess... We do have a few more similarities.” He stood up. “I’m grabbing seconds. You need more as well?”

Fenris nodded, holding out his bowl, thinking on what Anders had said. What those Templars had done sounded like the same kind of underhanded thing Hadriana would do, perhaps even Danarius if he was in a bad mood. Not that Fenris had had any friends to begin with. Perhaps there _were_ similarities between their experiences. He lay back against the headboard of the bed, drinking more water while he waited. 

More soup arrived, a little less steamy but with the same amount of cooked goods in them; and there were two cups of wine as well. Anders still ate as if he was starving, but his cheeks took on a shade of color at least. “Oh, right,” he paused between two spoonfuls. “I almost forgot. It’s not a cookbook, but Hawke brought it over.” He gestured toward the nightstand where the book and the vial still stood. “He thought you might want to do something else aside sleeping. And the potion is a very good quality, too.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow as he spooned some more soup to his mouth. “You presume that I can read, mage? Do you think slaves are taught how? The book is as useless to me as my sword is to you. I will, however, have the potion if you believe it will help.”

Anders stopped eating altogether and his eyes widened. “You… can’t read. You can’t read! How can you not read?! Maker’s breath, how did you survive- Never mind.” He looked utterly dumbfounded. “I- can’t even say anything. Do you want to learn?”

“Why, what good would it do? I’ve come this far without the ability, why would I need it now?” Fenris shrugged and carried on eating. He was curious about one thing though. “What made you think I could?”

“I’m probably generalizing,” Anders explained. “I mean, I know a lot of people can’t read, but I come from a Circle, so everyone I knew for almost twenty years after I turned twelve knew how to read. All the people I hang out with seem to know how to read. And you’re so cultured.” He shrugged. “I can understand why you weren’t taught, but for me, it’s an important skill to have so I guess I assumed your former master trained you in that, too. You really don’t want to learn?”

“Reading is a dangerous skill for slaves to have. It’s not that I don’t want to, I just don’t see the point. What would the benefits be?” Fenris asked, setting down the now-empty bowl and finishing the glass of water that Anders had brought him earlier. “What would _you_ get out of it?”

“I’ll ask you to teach me Tevene.” Anders sipped his wine. “Reading is important and fun. There’s a lot of things you could or should read. Cookbooks. Mercenary contracts. Varric’s terrible romance novels. My manifesto.” He grinned at that. “Notes passed on by slavers, letters sent by Danarius to your pursuers, maybe?”

Fenris was quiet as he considered. Even with regards to Anders’ manifesto, he had to admit (to himself, never aloud of course) that he was interested in the mage’s nonsense. Perhaps he had performed some spell to sway him. There was a part of him that was surprised at the thought; Anders would never do something like that, especially to a patient. 

“Alright,” Fenris said simply. 

“You’re somewhat suspiciously agreeable,” Anders frowned a bit, “but the deal is made. Also, you should leave the potion alone, you’ve had one in the morning. It might disagree with the wine, too. Drink that while I do the dishes. Are you going back to sleep, or should I do a little more healing?”

“If you wish to do more healing, I will definitely require this,” Fenris mumbled as he drank the wine at a faster rate than he would usually. Why _was_ he agreeing to more healing? Oh yes, because without it and the potions, he had no doubt he would be in agony. He sighed and resolutely ignored the voice that said it was because he wanted to be close to Anders. 

“Alright.” Anders stood and gathered the empty bowls. “First things first, I have a kettle going for these… I’ll be back in a bit. That wound on your hip bothers me, and I have enough energy to mend it.” He left the elf alone to reflect on that.

Fenris tensed immediately at the mention to his hip. Anders wanted to heal that, _now_? Maker, he so wished it was easier to get drunk. If he was drunk, he may not remember the horrific embarrassment that was going to take place soon. He was going to get an erection and Anders was going to see it. There would be no hiding it if Anders was healing his hip. He was actually considering just saying no to hide his shame, but without the magic, it would take weeks, maybe even longer to heal. He was just going to have to deal with it, he supposed. And think of everything he could to keep his cock at bay. 

Time passed on peacefully, almost easing his worries, but all good things come to an end. Anders returned, wiping his hands on his tunic. “We considered calling some help over to clean up your cherished mess,” he teased, gesturing toward the larger part of the building. “This could be a neat home, but aside the kitchen, which I cleaned up already, it’s just… I’m not even sure. I think the best word is dilapidated.” He settled down and reached for the cover. “I know you’re not fond of this, but it’ll be over soon, I promise.”

“Donnic says it’s some sort of justice, ruining Danarius’ things. It’s not even Danarius’...” Fenris murmured, anything to distract himself from what was coming. But when Anders reached for the bedcovers, Fenris grabbed them himself, clutching onto them tightly. “Do… Do you have to do that?” he asked quietly, hating how weak and timid he sounded. 

Anders stopped. “No. No, I don’t. It’s just faster this way, and easier on your body, because quick bursts of magic are far less straining than potion after potion. But, when I’m not the unwashed apostate rambling angrily about mage rights, I’m a gentle, dedicated healer, who considers the well-being of others, so if you can’t handle it, then I won’t do it.” He absent-mindedly reached out and briefly touched a white line on Fenris’ arm. “I can’t even imagine what sort of pain you experience. Do the markings react when the magic isn’t directed at you? And when it is, I suppose the rush after the battle keeps you from thinking too much about it… I’ve healed you a few times before.”

Fenris blushed, although he was sure his dark skin hid it, shivering from the touch to his lyrium already; he could already feel them pulsing in response to Anders’ dormant magic.. “Yes, they… react.” That didn’t give too much away, did it? He didn’t want Anders to know. 

“I think I can see why you hate mages…” Anders’ eyes shone with compassion. “Whenever they cast a spell, you’re hurt, I guess it’s hard to think beyond that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “That… puts things into a different light, actually. It makes sense. Sweet Andraste, you’re only half the raving little bunch of aggression I thought you were. I never thought I’d say that.” He shook his head with a faint smile. “I can go and make you a few more potions. It’s going to be a slow progress, but who knows, maybe I’ll get Justice back sometime during the process, heal you with one spell and then it’ll be over. I’m just a little concerned about your dignity.”

 _So am I_ , Fenris almost said. Instead, he merely nodded, relaxing the grip he had on the sheets. It was… odd, he supposed, that Anders was not making him go through the healing. The mage was offering, Fenris knew he should be grateful and just accept but yet… Anders was understanding of the issue - at least of the issue he believed it to be - and even… Fenris sighed internally; it wouldn’t do any good to try and think of reasons why Anders was doing this. He doubted that there were any ulterior motives to begin with, and for that he was grateful. 

“Alright then,” Anders briefly rested his hand over the elf’s stomach. “I’ll go back to the kitchen and make you a sandwich.” He threw his head back and laughed at his own joke. “I think I’ll make a few short runs, perhaps call Hawke over… Varric and him supplied me with things, but now I’ll need a few extra ingredients. I don’t want to leave you alone for long though. I know it irks you, but you can’t defend yourself right now, and when you drink, sooner or later you’ll need to piss. I’d rather not find you in a crumpled heap by the bed because you got the brilliant idea to take it outside.”

“How about I promise not to go anywhere? Even if I must sit up on the edge of the bed, there is a chamberpot,” Fenris said. “I may not be able to defend myself right now, but you may leave me for a time. No one has ever tried to break into the mansion, I will be alright for a while at least. And besides, unless you were planning to go on an adventure with Hawke, you won’t be long. ”

“I worry for you once in my life, and you shoot me down.” Anders placed a theatrical hand on his chest. “Fine. I’ll go about my business and you go back to napping. On a positive note, if I don’t have to heal you, I can make stronger potions. We’ll see how they work.” He rose and walked out to get ready.


	2. Shaken, Not Stirred 2

The day went on mostly in silence, save for a visit from Hawke; at least Fenris could spend his time with something else than sleeping. At the evening, Isabela dropped in as well and persistently kept trying to peek under the covers until Anders shooed her out of the mansion.

“I think we both deserve some sleep after a visit like that,” Anders sighed once he cleaned up after dinner. “Are you comfortable? Warm enough? I’d like to avoid getting up during the night, I have troubles getting back to sleep.”

“I could always knock you out if you wish,” Fenris said with a small grin, his eyelids drooping sweetly. He looked happy, at ease. “Isabela is always incorrigible, that won’t change. I think we just have to deal with it.” He snuggled further down into the bed, sighing softly. 

“You don’t have a problem with her being handsy, but when I do it, suddenly I’m the source of your eternal pain,” Anders ranted with mischievous sparkles in his eyes. “Go to sleep then. Remember, take a sip if you’re in pain, and definitely take a few sips before you try to move more than just wiggling.” He pointed out the wine bottle on the nightstand. Since there was a distinct lack of suitable kitchenware in the mansion, Anders simply used to store the freshly brewed healing potions in whatever was available. The empty wine bottles seemed like a good idea. 

“But never take more than three large gulps,” Anders went on. “It’s composed of some strong herbs that could even poison you.”

Fenris nodded. He didn’t have a problem with Isabela being handsy because it didn’t _mean_ anything, not to him. Anders touching him meant… more. He wasn’t sure what, just more than the tactile friendship that he and Isabela had. The sleepiness vanished because the thoughts of the feeling Anders’ magic gave him decided to intrude. Still, he closed his eyes with a sigh and willed himself to relax.

Anders shook his head, threw a longing glance at the already dozing elf, then went to wrap up a few more things before retiring himself. 

Soon enough, silence settled over the mansion. Anders curled up on his cot, staff within arm’s reach out of habit, and his beloved pillow clutched close. It was shaping up to be a peaceful night in Hightown, where Aveline’s men guarded the sleeping elite.

***

It was dark. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it wasn’t real, a quiet voice in Fenris’ head said, only to be squashed by the sudden sound of Danarius’ voice. 

“Oh, little one,” the Magister cooed. It wasn’t… It wasn’t right. Fenris could remember near everything that his master had ever said, had ever called him, but it had never been that, the voice was wrong. 

“You’re not real,” Fenris whispered, trying to stand only to find shackles around his wrists and ankles. They were warm, not frozen with enchantments as Danarius’ had been. 

“I’m real to you, wolf. That’s all that matters,” the demon chuckled, the visage of Danarius slipping. “So desperate to be owned by a mage, aren’t you, Fenris? So desperate, in fact, that you’d go to an abomination. You are _weak_. Don’t you want to be strong, Fenris? Strong enough to fight the spell that the mage has put over you?”

“He wouldn’t… I-- I won’t make a deal with a demon,” Fenris whispered, though his usual conviction was lacking. 

“Oh, you will,” the creature said with a horrible laugh. It stepped closer and took hold of Fenris’ chin. “You will give in, little wolf. Trust me.”

Fenris woke with a ragged gasp, as if his lungs had collapsed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bottle of wine and grabbed it, swallowing back most of it in one gulp. When the taste hit him, he froze. That wasn’t wine. 

He couldn’t hear the echoes of that malicious laughter anymore though, and when he had moved, pain flared up in his thigh but now it was gone; at least that counted for something. Anders said too much of the brew _could_ poison someone, not that it inevitably _will_. Maybe nothing was going to happen.

Fenris settled back and closed his eyes. He suspected if the potion had some adverse effect, he’d know about it when it happened. And a healer was sleeping close by…

Sleep didn’t have the time to come, though. Fenris started to feel hot, and it escalated quickly to a point where he was gasping for air. His whole body tingled, especially his injuries and the lyrium’s subtle glow grew stronger; the substance underneath his skin felt like squirming, like a fingertip dragging along each and every line at the same time. The heat pooled in his belly, creeping up towards his heart and the sensations kept intensifying until the odd but not unpleasant buzz turned into pain, and there was no stopping to the process.

Fenris wanted to call for Anders, wanted to do something, say something, but it felt like his throat had closed completely. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. Every time he tried to speak, the pain got worse and worse, and the buzzing in his lyrium continued, an odd edge of pleasure to the agony. When a sharp pang hit him, starting in his gut, he felt his throat open enough to shout Anders’ name. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to be able to make the mage shout _his_ name, with his head tossed back and-- Oh, Maker, he was delirious. He was delirious and he was going to die, all because of some damned nightmare and some stupid potion. 

Anders immediately bolted up on his cot, wide awake. He was leaning over Fenris the next moment, tossing bright witchlight over them, to light the room. “What is it?” he demanded, one hand on Fenris’ forehead, the other seizing his slender wrist to check the pulse. “You’re glowing! What did you-” his eyes darted to the nightstand. “Oh no, for the love of the Maker, I told you to be cautious with that! What were you thinking?! Well, now you don’t get to object.” He wrenched the covers off Fenris and began to cast, to assess the damage.

Objecting hadn’t even occurred to Fenris; he just wanted the pain to _stop_. The cool air on his skin felt so good against his skin, against the throbbing lines of lyrium. With his markings already lit, the mere presence of Anders’ magic was already making him breathless, but when the first bolt of healing hit him, he couldn’t help the desperate moan that escaped him. It wasn’t a moan of pain, Anders realised, and Fenris didn’t even care anymore. He felt like he was floating through a void of pain and pleasure, with Anders the only thing grounding him. His hand shot up to grab Anders’ arm but instead of pushing it away like it normally would, it pulled the mage closer and tightened. Every breath Fenris managed to suck in was ragged and every exhale a whimper. His cock was throbbing and already leaking against his stomach.

The reaction did surprise Anders quite a bit. He nearly lost his concentration when Fenris pulled him closer, but he managed to hold the spell. He couldn’t not notice a rather curious occurrence below the elf’s waist, not to mention the sight he presented. Fenris’ lean but strong body was pulled taut, lyrium glowing brightly; Anders could almost taste it in the air. The elf’s eyes were half-lidded and unfocused, pretty lips open, chest heaving, and he _moaned_. Anders had to swallow. Was that how Fenris looked when- He shook his head firmly, closed his eyes and kept the mana flowing, to neutralize the poison, restore the damage and drain the excess magic that was irritating the markings.

“A-Anders,” Fenris managed to gasp after a moment, body shivering in pleasure as the pain began to slowly ebb away. “ _Please_ … Don’t stop,” he whimpered. 

It felt so good and Fenris was sure he was still delirious - that would be the excuse he later used, of course, no matter how true it was - because thoughts and images were running through his mind without end, each running into the next. Anders on his back with his knees spread; on his front with his ass up; the mage’s lips around Fenris’ cock; Anders on his knees and begging. He swore with another moan, arching up to try and get Anders hands on his skin. 

“What is even happening and why is it happening to me?” Anders muttered under his breath, feeling his pants getting tighter. The spell did its job, but Fenris… well, he looked absolutely ravishing, and he was pleading… Anders swallowed again and recalibrated the flow of mana, into a small spell that didn’t need that much energy. It kept pulsing under his palm where it was resting on Fenris’ chest. The fingertips of his other hand sparked and he hesitantly reached out. He knew this was not the right thing to do, but he couldn’t resist. He began to lightly caress Fenris’ erection.

Fenris gasped and whimpered in surprise. For all his begging, even in his delirium he hadn’t really expected Anders to touch him but _Maker_ he was glad he did. Anders’ fingers sent sparks of pleasure rushing through Fenris’ veins, as well as through the lyrium in his skin. But it wasn’t enough. The light touch was little more than teasing, especially with how hot he was burning, how hard he was. 

“ _Anders_ ,” Fenris whined, arching and tugging at the wrist of the mage’s other hand. “Touch me properly, please. I need it...”

Anders gulped and obeyed. His fingers curled around the ball-sack heavy with semen and rolled the jewels gently before slipping past them to Fenris’ taint. The heel of his palm massaged the base of the penis and all the while, the little spell kept going, the sparks teasing the lyrium.

“Hush, it’s alright,” Anders whispered, almost as if in a daze. “I’m not going to leave you. Don’t hold back… Maker, you’re beautiful. I know you need this. I want to see you come. It’s alright Fenris, I got you.”

Fenris gasped, arching to roll his hips against Anders’ hand. The hand that was still clinging to Anders’ wrist relaxed and slid up the length of his arm to curl his fingers into Anders’ hair, pulling him down for a kiss. 

“I‘ve thought about this,” Fenris admitted, memories of long nights alone circling through his haze. “Thought about fucking you.”

“And I thought about you fucking me…” Anders admitted, hoping hard that the elf won’t remember a word of what was told. “Kissing along all your markings and taking you into my mouth.” He threw caution to the wind and kissed Fenris, abandoning the delicate treatment between the strong thighs. He just took the dark penis into his hand and began to jerk it off in earnest. “I want to see you like this again.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Fenris moaned against Anders’ mouth, hands burying themselves in the mage’s hair tightly. It was soft against his skin but all he could think of was grabbing it and holding Anders down against the pillow while he fucked him hard. “Want to break you and then put you back together. I want you to be _mine_.” 

“And I want you to come,” Anders murmured, “so this could be over. It’s not real. It can never be real.” He kissed Fenris regardless, deeply and with passion, trying to bring him to completion. The words put a knife through his heart. Maybe this was punishment for desiring someone as good as Hawke. 

Fenris whined curiously like a puppy before moaning against Anders’ mouth, fingers stroking through his hair and massaging his scalp. He was so close, he was almost– Fenris came with a loud shout, lyrium and magic sparking in his skin. 

Anders marveled at the expression on the elf’s face; Fenris looked lovely when overwhelmed by pleasure. Unfortunately, there were some other pressing matters. Anders dutifully stayed while the orgasm tapered off, kissing Fenris’ forehead and tasting the faint aroma of salt. “I’ll bring you a towel,” he murmured. “I’ll be back soon. You just rest. Everything is fine now.” Anders rose swiftly, not wanting to get held up; he needed a moment alone. After another wishful glance, he hurried out to the kitchen then promptly fell on his knees and all but tore his pants open to finally wrap his trembling fingers around his erection. It didn’t take long for him to finish, not with the fantasies he entertained. He had to clamp a hand over his mouth to not cry out. 

Fenris couldn't even reach to clean himself before he was passing out, far too exhausted. The nightmare and the overdose, coupled with his injuries and the orgasm, it was all too much and he struggled to hold his eyes open for barely another second before he gave in. As he fell asleep, if briefly occurred to him that Anders had run away. Oh well, he could deal with that in the morning.

It felt like a mere moment later when he opened his eyes again, but it was morning already, or at least, daylight. The room was empty, no healer in sight; but there was a steady sound from the outside, the soothing rustle of a light drizzle, and in the air a faint scent lingered, something herbal - chamomile?

The nightstand held a small box this time decorated with fancy golden filigree. It looked like a jewelry box, possibly Orlaisian.

Fenris had to take a few moments to gather his bearings; where was he? He was in bed. Why did he feel so… sated? Because… Because… Then it all came flooding back, making him flush a bright red in embarrassment and shame. Anders knew now. He knew what healing did to him. Fenris only hoped that the mage had run away and would never mention it again. Of course, he would have to apologise. Even though he had been the one ailed, _he_ was begging. _He_ was demanding. _He_ took advantage of the mage’s generosity and for that he had to apologise. 

Andraste was in an ill humor that day, because she left him with enough time to wallow in guilt before she steered Anders back into the bedroom. He brought more of the herbal scent with him upon entering. “Oh! Finally, I thought you’ll be asleep all day!” He walked to Fenris’ bed and sat down, with a small frown. “How are you feeling? It’s past midday already, you definitely had a long rest, and you don’t seem to be in pain… If you still remember, I’d like to know what exactly happened last night.”

“I...” Fenris needed to apologise but his throat closed on the words, clamping shut. He swallowed hard a few times before he could speak. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t-- I never... ” He sighed, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I had a nightmare. Some demon. It was bad. I woke up and the bottle was there. Usually I have a bottle of wine on the bedside table but… It wasn’t wine. I’m so sorry. Nothing I can do would be enough to make up for the way I took advantage of you.” 

“What? What?” Anders was blushing, but he was more alarmed than embarrassed. “What was that part about a demon? We’ll get back to the awkward part later, but a demon? You can never be too careful with those, was it real or just a nightmare… not that you can tell the difference, so I sure hope you didn’t try to deal with it!”

Fenris blinked in surprise. “You think I would--” He started, shocked more than anything, until his face hardened into a stoic mask. “Get out. I am not so _weak_ as to make deals with a demon, real or no. Get out.”

“Ooh, because only mages can make deals with demons? Well, thank you so much.” Anders indeed stood and stormed out, only to end up in the kitchen and curling up with his back against the warm side of the fireplace. He knew he could have explained it, that it was not what he meant - Fenris wasn’t weak at all - but the elf’s words hurt. Anders simply wanted to breathe, let the anger fade. He lowered his head and inhaled the calming scent of the chamomile tea that was quietly steaming on the stove.

Anders missed his late friend. He missed Hawke. And he missed the thing from last night, that closeness, the warmth of the kisses. The pleasant heat against his back did nothing for his heart.

Fenris watched Anders run but as soon as the door shut behind him, he realised just how grave a mistake he had made. He swore to himself and dropped his head into his hands. He needed to go after Anders and apologise, but he couldn’t even get out of the fucking bed. He _was_ weak. It might not have been in the way that he was protesting, but he was. And the mage had volunteered to help with that, only to have his kindness thrown back in his face. Fenris couldn’t remember everything about the night before. He remembered a burning touch and magic in his skin and begging for more. He _wanted_ more, even now. He had meant what he said; that he wanted Anders to be his, but how could he have that when he just kept driving the mage away? He was cruel and knew that he didn’t deserve someone like Anders. Perhaps he could just settle for civility, if he made an effort not to let his cold and automatic remarks loose. 

“Anders?” Fenris called plaintively, anger gone in the face of the desire to make things right. “I’m sorry, I didn’t… Fuck...”

He had to call a few more times until a pouty mage appeared in the doorway, arms tightly crossed as he leaned against the frame, not really looking at Fenris. “You need anything?”

“I need to apologise. I _need_ to think before I say things. I’m sorry, I didn’t-- I know-- I just… Well, this is going well,” Fenris grumbled at himself, sighing again. “I didn’t mean it like that, and I know you didn’t mean it like that, and I’m sorry.”

“An apology. That’s new.” Anders strolled up to the bed and settled down on the ground, resting his arms on the mattress and his head on them. “It’s odd. Without Justice I mean. He’d have probably tried to strangle you, but right now, I’m not even angry. Just sad and tired.” He closed his eyes. “It’s a good thing I have him, I don’t know how I’d keep going otherwise. Others don’t apologize, and they always mean it. And they never listen.” 

Fidgeting with the sheets and resolutely not looking at Anders, Fenris carefully said, “If you wish… The bed is large enough for both of us to share comfortably. Will you… tell me what it’s like? With your… spirit,” Fenris added slowly, choosing his words carefully. 

Anders tilted his head up sharply, with a disbelieving look, and it took him a while to get himself moving, but he eventually crawled on the bed to rest next to Fenris. “This is not awkward at all,” he murmured. “Especially not after last night. I should be the one to apologize about that, I shouldn’t have touched you, but you asked... “ He borrowed the corner of the blanket to bury his face into it, his voice muffled by the fabric. “You look… really nice when- you let pleasure claim you.”

Fenris blushed a deep pink that even showed on his dark skin. He lay down again slowly and wished he could easily move to lie on his side so he could look at Anders. Instead, he settled for turning his head to watch him. “I, uh… Thank you. You needn’t apologise. As you said, I asked and-- Well, I don’t regret it,” he admitted. 

“People normally don’t regret their orgasms,” Anders snickered. “I wasn’t against helping, not really.” He turned on his back, staring at the ceiling. “I thought about it a few times. I wondered how you’d look when you come. I imagined you doing all sort of things to me. I was curious about how flexible you are and how strong your grasp is and what sort of wicked things you were taught back in Tevinter.”

An eyebrow raised immediately at that. Anders had explicitly thought about the two of them together? Well, Fenris had too, but that was beside the point. 

“What sort of things, mage? Or are you not sharing?” Fenris asked, a small smirk beginning to curl his lips. 

“I can make this even more awkward if you wish,” Anders shrugged. “I thought about you taking me, rough, down at the clinic, against the wall, pulling my hair and raping me, biting my neck like a wolf. Then there was this part with a blindfold and ropes and candle wax… a few really ridiculous fantasies as well, like a soft bed, softer covers and your hand on my stomach and your breath against my ear as you made love to me, so slowly and gently that I wept.” He cracked an eye open to look at the elf. “Are you throwing up yet?”

“No,” Fenris said, voice rough with desire. “Did you get yourself off?” He had to know. Had to be able to imagine Anders taking himself in hand and gasping Fenris’ name as he came. The difference between the examples that Anders had given was vast; Fenris knew rough and savage, but he was sure he could be slow and gentle too. Why was he thinking about this? They were Anders’ fantasies, and that was how they would stay. 

“Heh. It’d be sad to let a perfectly good hard-on go to waste,” Anders grinned. “Justice was beside himself at times. Other times, I felt like he was soothing me after the rush. I think he can’t figure out how he feels about you. You’re just so incredibly attractive with such a dismal attitude.”

Fenris snorted in disbelief. “Attractive? I hardly think so, mage. Perhaps the fumes from the sewer have gone to your head. I am many things but that isn’t one of them.” 

“Yeah, Danarius kept you to so he could stare at your ugly mug all the time, right?” Anders rolled his eyes. “There’s this thing called a mirror. One of the girls probably have one. I’d steer clear of Merrill’s, though.”

“Everything Danarius ever told me was a lie; I won’t believe the words he spoke to manipulate me,” Fenris explained with a shrug.

“Sorry to break it to you, but despite being a shitty person, he obviously had a good taste,” Anders countered. “You’re slender, wired, you have lovely green eyes and your hair contrasts great with your skin. Not to mention you’re pumped full of lyrium and you know what that is to Fade creatures-- Wait.” He struggled up onto his elbows. “Justice is fond of lyrium, I still carry his ring-- Have you seen anything like that demon before?”

“Of course I have, it’s a common occurrence. Well, reasonably common. Why?”

“No, it’s not!” Anders laid a hand on Fenris’ arm. “Mages are indeed sought after by demons, because due to our connection to the Fade, and our miserable lives, they can find us easier and tempt us with a lot of things. Normal people are seldom found by demons. If they were, imagine how many abominations would run around everywhere! Demons can be really persuasive, and a promise of something grand can sway a lot of people. If they seek you out, it means that something lures them to you.” He ran a thumb over a winding line on Fenris’ skin. “Lyrium is connected to the Fade, so probably this is the reason you have to face them.” He looked into the elf’s eyes. “Never, ever believe them. They’re like Danarius: every word they speak is a lie. They’ll say then can give you everything but they won’t, or worse; they’ll give you what you want, then they’ll rip it from you and then turn you into their puppet.”

Fenris shivered at Anders’ touch, letting his eyes close briefly. “I was a puppet for a long time, mage. I am not keen to go back to such an existence. I wasn’t aware that most people don’t encounter demons. Or at least not in number.” Silently, Fenris willed Anders to continue touching him, although he said nothing aloud. The gentle touch was… comforting, reassuring.

“I happen to know very well what despair can do to people,” Anders grumbled. “I don’t think that you’re _weak_. But I do think that a demon could offer you something which would sound tempting enough to consider it. Like Danarius’ head on a silverite platter. Or your memories. They also know how to weaken your resolve. When I first met one… it told me that I was weak, that I was going to die, that if I make one single wrong step, he’ll devour me… It’s hard to keep a cool head in a fight where your enemy knows exactly what to taunt you with.”

Humming softly in agreement, Fenris looked from the ceiling to Anders, smiling a little at the sight of the mage. He wanted to run his hands through that gorgeous hair, wanted to touch him everywhere he was allowed. Fenris didn’t want to think about demons anymore; he fought more than his fair share with Hawke, and had watched Danarius set them on enemies like a tidal wave. He had had enough of demons for one lifetime.

“He was right though, that demon,” Anders sighed, laying back with a hand over the pit of his stomach. “I’m weak. You’re right about that, too. I’m not much of a fighter and I don’t have enough power without Justice. Maybe he’s all that holds me together. Just look at me lying here, spilling everything.”

Fenris frowned and took a deep breath to roll onto his side, unable to hide his wince at the pain it sparked in his hip. Despite that, he enjoyed the way it let him look at Anders. “You need to learn to ignore the things I say,” Fenris said softly. “Just because you’re a mage doesn’t mean that that’s all you’re good for. You are a healer. You have a purpose. It’s more than I have. I sit here waiting for Danarius to return one day, but he never has. I’ve begun to realise that I don’t care anymore, not really anyway. You have got used to the power that Justice has given you. Even without that, you are one of the most powerful mages I have ever met, and that scares me,” Fenris admitted reluctantly. 

“Scare you,” Anders echoed, confused. “What have I done to make you feel afraid?” He reached out and brushed a lock of hair, still stiff with dried blood from Fenris’ eyes. “I have never hurt you. Nor do I intend to.”

“I know that,” Fenris said, subconsciously turning his face into Anders’ hand. “ _You_ don’t scare me, your power scares. The things I have seen you do which could so easily be done to me. I cannot fight magic. I couldn’t stop you hurting me if you chose to. _That’s_ what scares me. Although I… trust you, not to do that.”

“What would be the fun in that?” Anders whispered. “I could do so many other things to you that wouldn’t hurt. If only you were interested.” The back of his finger brushed against Fenris’ lips. 

“Who says I'm not?” Fenris asked, tongue darting out to lick at Anders’ fingertip, teasingly, as he looked at his lovely honey eyes. 

The next moment, warm lips pressed against Fenris’, a cool hand cupping his face. A thumb brushed against his ear and Anders let out a tiny noise, like a mewl. The tip of his tongue was prodding Fenris’ mouth, trying to coax the lips open.

Fenris hummed happily and let his eyes close, lips opening for Anders. He met him halfway, teasing along the mage’s tongue with his own as his hand reached out to grab Anders’ tunic to drag him closer until they were flush. 

Anders went willingly and stabbed his tongue as deep into Fenris’ mouth as he was able, then pulled back. “You are an idiot,” he panted. “You have a broken leg, you’re filthy, you had potion poisoning half a day ago, and here you are, trying to climb on your healer. You have absolutely no restraint and common sense. Thank the Maker for that.” There came more kissing, warm, eager and passionate. Anders curled an arm around Fenris and slipped his hand down to the small of the back, then cast a weak healing spell.

Fenris chuckled lowly deep in his throat until Anders used his magic. He gasped in surprise, hips jerking forward with a soft moan against Anders’ mouth, cock twitching. Already naked, Fenris wanted to feel skin against his. His fingers slowly uncurled from Anders’ tunic and moved to the buttons of it, undoing them. 

Anders let him, gently easing Fenris onto his back and leaning above him. Once the shirt buttons were all undone, he sat up, straddling the elf’s hips and tugged the tunic off. Anders then resumed the kissing, his fingers dancing over Fenris’ chest, finding remaining bruises and making them disappear with small bursts of magic. 

Every fresh burst had Fenris moaning, made his already hard cock twitch with desire where it was pressing against Anders’ ass. His hands grabbed the mage’s hips briefly before they moved to Anders’ front, running up his chest slowly, skimming his thumbs over his nipples too lightly for any real satisfaction beyond taunting. Fenris pulled away from their kiss to mouth along Anders’ jawline. 

“Your leg is broken, you know,” Anders panted. “It’ll hurt like dragonfire if we continue like this. I can keep up with the good touches, and, um, I can suck you off. If that’s okay? I think I’ll be able to fix your thigh tomorrow and if you’re still interested, we can do something even better then.”

Fenris wanted to swear at the reminder, but Anders was only looking out for him. Ideas began to spark in his mind of alternative things they could do other than what he _wanted_. When he had one, he grinned slowly. 

“Take these off,” Fenris demanded, tugging at the waistband of Anders’ trousers. 

“I’m not sure I like that grin,” Anders commented with a raised brow, but he climbed off Fenris and shimmied out of the pants. Then he returned to the previous position. “Any more instructions?”

“Move up here and turn around,” Fenris said, gesturing towards his face. If he couldn't have his dick in Anders’ entrance, his fingers and tongue were second-best, especially if it meant Anders could suck his cock while Fenris had his fun. 

It looked like the idea met Anders’ approval, because his eyes widened and he hastily obeyed. Leaning on his elbows, then threw a mischievous glance back then began to _play_ with Fenris’ cock. There was no other word to describe the series of gentle caresses, little kisses and licks, playful tugs and nuzzling. He was like a kitten with a ball of yarn.

In a mixture of arousal and amusement, Fenris kissed the base of Anders’ spine before nipping firmly at both cheeks of his ass, biting at one a little more firmly to mark him possessively. Later, he would feel bad for not asking for permission but he wanted to leave his mark, lay his claim. Slowly, Fenris inched closer and closer to Anders’ entrance with his bites and kisses until he eventually lay a wet, open-mouthed kiss over it. 

The hips under his hands shivered and Anders moaned, his back arching. “Oh shit,” he gasped. “Not a lot of people do that… K-keep going, please.” As a reward, he let a faint electrical current lick at Fenris’ erection.

Fenris whimpered softly, hips jerking, and he had to take a moment to breathe before he leaned close again to lick at Anders’ hole, slowly applying more pressure and wider, longer licks every time. Fenris’ hands came up slowly, squeezing Anders’ cheeks and parting them to get a better angle and more room to play. 

The resulting moans, whimpers and wiggling were worth all the trouble. Anders’ cock was leaking precum over Fenris’ chest and the healer wasn’t shirking his duty, either. He guided the erection into his mouth to lick and suck, while his fingers worked on the testicles, gently massaging them.

Fenris wanted to plant his feet in the mattress and rock his hips to thrust gently in and out of Anders’ mouth, but even the thought made his leg hurt. He settled for simply rolling his hips instead, focusing in on Anders’ entrance to lick at it once before pushing the tip of his tongue in. 

His cock slipped from Anders’ talented mouth, but the healer apparently needed it to yowl like a cat in heat. He was painfully erect by now and he probably couldn’t help rocking back, trying to get more of the wonderful sensations. “F-fuck me, Fenris,” Anders begged, “Please fuck me with your tongue…!”

Fenris had to pull back to take a shaky breath; the sound of Anders’ begging was more beautiful than anything else he could have imagined. He focused on getting more of it; he tensed his tongue and pushed it immediately back into Anders’ entrance, curling it as he pulled back only to thrust it back in firmly. One of his hands released the mage’s cheeks to roll his balls between his fingers. 

Anders was adorably vocal about his pleasure, though his moans were muffled at times, when his lips were latched on Fenris’ flesh. His hips just couldn’t stay still, they wiggled invitingly, and his erection twitched with impatience. To top it all, whenever he managed to suck in enough air, he kept begging, pleading to the Maker, his prophet and Fenris, alternately. 

When Fenris thought Anders was wet enough with his spit, he pushed a finger into him slowly. He would go no further without proper lubricant but he could tease with this for a while. Fenris nipped carefully at Anders’ rim where it was stretched around his finger and licked around it as he moved the finger slowly. 

Anders shuddered and swore under his breath, trying to gather his wits to cast. He was sure spirit healing have never been utilized this way before, or at least, not very often. There was one spell everyone really liked, a continuous healing that affected allies, rejuvenating them in small, steady bursts. Anders was really curious about the effect it would have on Fenris. 

“I don’t want to drag this out,” Anders said. “Too much strain on your injuries, you should take it easy… If you want to… we can do this more. You can find me, I can find you and we need it. No complicated feelings, just good sex.”

Fenris didn’t think as he lightly swatted Anders’ backside. “Shut up and let me make you come,” he said, a growl deep in the back of his throat. He tried to push away the slight ache in his chest that came with Anders only wanting the sex, not him. He clamped down on the thought and locked it away for later. He wanted to hear what an orgasm would make Anders sound like.

Apparently, he was going to be loud. Anders’ voice rose as the minutes ticked by, loud moans and breathless little cries filling the air aside his magic. He diligently tried to keep working on Fenris, but he was getting lost in his own pleasure. “K-keep your finger inside,” he panted. “But touch my taint… be a little rough… I’m getting close, Fenris, please…!”

“You want rough, mage?” Fenris asked, doing his best to hide the quiver in his voice from the pleasure that Anders’ magic sparked inside him. “If I was well, you’ve no idea what I would do to you...”

Instead, Fenris grabbed Anders’ hips and tugged hard to get him even closer, using his thumb to roll over Anders’ taint, massaging his prostate from inside and out. 

“Come for me, Anders,” Fenris growled, breathless from his own pleasure. 

It didn’t take long for that to happen. Anders pushed himself up, his back almost snapping, head thrown back and he yelled from pleasure, thighs quivering, toes curling and his semen splashing onto Fenris’ skin. As the orgasm tapered off, Anders fell back on his elbows, shoulders pinched. His breath ghosted over Fenris’ erection and a little bit later, a warm tongue began to lave the firm flesh with eager sweeps. Like a cat, Anders licked and moaned as if servicing Fenris still gave him pleasure.

Fenris moaned against Anders’ skin and eased off a bit, working him through the orgasm. A swipe of Anders’ tongue against the head of his cock was the final straw and he was coming with a jerk of his hips and a deep groan, fingers digging into Anders’ thigh where he was still holding onto him. For a moment, Fenris just panted against Anders’ skin, slowly relaxing and releasing his grip on the mage. 

Anders struggled up and climbed off Fenris, but only to collapse next to him, sharing the same pillow. Anders slipped his arm around the elf’s waist and closed his eyes, still breathing more heavily than normal. Basking in the post-coital daze, he dropped a kiss on the lyrium-marked shoulder and murmured a ‘thank you’.

Unable to help his small smile, Fenris returned the embrace and let his eyes close. If Anders questioned it, then he could always blame his tiredness. For now, he was happy to stroke Anders’ ribs slowly and play with his hair. He wanted to remember this softness. After all, Anders only wanted sex, didn’t he. 

The healer didn’t seem to mind the closeness at all. Once his heart calmed down, he sat up though and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind his ear with a small, embarrassed smile. “I, wow. That was really something, I really love it but it’s hard to indulge, so--” he leaned in to kiss Fenris’ cheek. “Thank you.”

“Sleep, mage, you said you were tired,” Fenris said quietly. 

“I did not say such a thing,” Anders protested. “And you’re filthy, covered in sweat, semen and dried blood. I boiled enough chamomile for a wash, and now you probably won’t--” he trailed off, eyes widening in alarm. He leaned back, hand creeping to the pit of his stomach and he gasped. “Fenris--!” 

Fenris frowned, looking Anders over. “What, mage?” he asked, confused. He was tired and his whole body was aching pleasantly, although he would have stayed awake longer for a wash. “Why do you look so panicked?”

“I think--” Anders doubled over with a loud gasp then his body was pulled taut by something - a bit like his orgasm managed to do a few minutes ago. Even his expression was similar as he gasped again. “Yes-- _Yes, YES!_ ”

The soft sound merged into a rumble and Anders’ eyes and skin lit up with blue in a familiar way. Justice roared with ecstasy, the air around him crackling with power. Then, he turned his attention to Fenris. “ _You.. YOU!_ ” The spirit pounced, hands slamming down next to Fenris’ head. “ _The Tevinter fugitive…!_ _The one who wants to see mages locked up! What have you done to Anders?! I can smell you all over him!_ ”

Fenris’ eyes went wide in terror; he couldn’t escape, not with his injuries, he couldn’t kill Anders. Not only would Hawke kill _him_ , but he himself didn’t want to. 

“I-I--” What could he say? What was there to say? This was what he had feared about Anders all along; the Fade being that dwelled inside him, that Anders couldn’t control. Not where it mattered anyway. “Please,” was all Fenris managed to whisper, voice shaking. 

Justice growled, but slowly, his tense posture relaxed; even his glow softened. “ _It’s a good thing you smell nice_ ,” he rumbled. “ _And Anders thinks fondly of you. You have done nothing he didn’t want._ ” He tipped his chin up. “ _A curious thing you are, Fugitive. Disapproving of mages, yet cohorting with one?_ ” After a moment, he took notice of the distress. “ _Anders, for some unfathomable reason, wouldn’t like me to hurt you, and for the moment, I do not wish to do so either._ ” He sat back with a straight back, hands resting on his slightly spread thighs. It was odd that he used Anders’ body, but the familiar frame was completely different now, it seemed harder, stronger, like a warrior instead of a healer. “ _Speak freely. No harm will befall on you. What is this agreement between you and how did it even come to be?_ ”

“There… There is no agreement, unless Anders’ wishes one,” Fenris explained shakily. His fist clenched and unclenched slowly, wishing for his sword, a dagger, anything that would let him protect himself. Not that he would have used it, just… as reassurance. “What do you wish me to say, spirit?”

“ _Spirit, not demon? A welcome change,_ ” Justice almost sounded amused. “ _I do admire your battle prowess, your bravery and loyalty, and I find your markings appealing. You have not given Anders out to the Templars - those things work in your favor. But it still irks me that you think mages are no better than a gaatlok barrel in a burning house. You also seem to be a distraction. Anders thinks about you a lot. I cannot allow us to lose sight of the cause. If there is to be a relationship, I need to make sure it won’t get out of hand. I wish to learn your intentions._ ”

“You think I am foolish enough to call you a demon to your face? I do not wish for death so quickly,” Fenris said. “If you haven’t noticed, your _cause_ is killing Anders. He is too thin and tired. You are working him to death, and you do not allow him to spend time with those he calls friends without argument. For something that claims to resemble justice, you have made Anders your slave. I will discuss my intentions with Anders, not you.” Fenris didn’t know where the sudden courage was coming from, but he tipped up his chin defiantly nevertheless. 

Justice flared like a torch. “ _How dare you call me out?_ ” he howled, though he did not move closer, merely curled up like a cat ready to pounce. “ _Our cause is just, we fight for freedom and rights, against oppression - you of all people should understand that! It is not an easy fight, and we stand alone, with no one to support us, no one to listen! Anders has no one aside me… I alone truly understand his sadness and anger! The templars must pay for the crimes they committed, the lies they forged! How is that not just?_ ”

“I never said it wasn’t, I merely said that your constant pushing and demanding will kill Anders, before any of your justice can be carried out. There will be no freedom or rights if Anders is dead. Anders has friends that support his cause, his beliefs, you merely do not wish Anders to associate with anyone other than _you_.”

Once again, the spirit pulled back an inch, looking oddly disgruntled, almost pouting. “ _Which one of you truly understands him? The warrior Hawke is concerned with his own business, the pirate harlot doesn’t care, the stalwart guard is blinded by the laws, the dwarf refuses to form an opinion and the little mage cohorts with a demon. That leaves you and the pious prince. I don’t think Anders chose his friends well._ ”

“Why don’t you leave that decision to Anders? Or are you going to take away more of his freedom by not allowing him friends, either?” Fenris asked, the anger sparking in his gut taking him by surprise. “Just because they do not help him free mages from the Gallows, does not mean that they don’t support him or understand him.”

“ _I have yet to see an ounce of understanding,_ ” Justice seethed quietly. “ _But I have to admit… the dwarf and Hawke are supportive. They are both good men on their own right. I’ll just have to see about you._ ” With that, the glow snuffed out, leaving a confused and panicked Anders behind.

“Maker…!” Anders hiccuped, curling his arms around himself. “H-he didn’t hurt you, right? I’m sorry, I was overwhelmed…” He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. “What did he say…?”

Fenris sagged back into the mattress, adrenaline from the experience and the fear that had still lingered after the initial terror coursing through his veins. He took slow, deep breaths and eventually lifted his arms to pull Anders against him again. “He didn’t hurt me. We were discussing his treatment of you, primarily,” Fenris admitted shyly. 

Anders raised a brow, but he promptly cuddled up against the elf, taking the mostly uninjured side. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “He’s… not a bad, uh, person. He cares, he helps me… Perhaps a little overprotective and… very enthusiastic about the cause of mages.”

“He may care but he doesn’t let you feed yourself, doesn’t let you sleep,” Fenris said softly, resolutely not looking at Anders’ face as he trailed his fingertips up and down the mage’s ribs slowly, feeling them individually press against his pale skin. “You need to eat more.”

“I’m a Warden,” Anders mumbled, showing absolutely no intention to move. “Some days I think I’ll never will be full ever again. And I have nightmares. There are a lot of patients too. The manifesto won’t write itself, either.”

Fenris sighed and nuzzled against Anders’ temple. “You give too much of yourself. I don’t wish to tell you how to live your life, but if you carry on like this there eventually won’t be an Anders to save the people that need it.”

Anders finally rose and smiled at Fenris, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “That’s… that was sweet, thank you. Heh.” He rubbed his nose, clearly touched and trying not to weep. “If you weren’t so filthy, I’d hug you. You need to finally bathe. And since now I have my full power back…” He flexed his fingers, suddenly in higher spirits, “Let’s quickly see to that poor bone, so you could walk. I found a tub in a good shape and cleaned it this morning. Can’t let all the chamomile go to waste.”

“I hope you’re planning to deal with the consequences of fixing that,” Fenris said with a small grin. “As for the mess, _this_ is your fault.” His grin widened as he trailed his fingers through the load of drying come on his stomach. He loosened his arm around Anders, giving him the room to move around to fix Fenris’ broken bone.

“I’m taking full responsibility,” Anders puffed his chest out. “And I promise to get rid of the evidence.” He grinned. “Very thoroughly.”


	3. A Little Technique

Fenris kicked the door shut behind him automatically, not bothering to lock it; he never locked it and besides, no one was foolish enough to try and break into the mansion, not with all of the rumours about how it was haunted. 

Arriving in his bedroom, the elf started undressing immediately. It had been a long day battling with Hawke, but apparently that wasn’t enough to keep an erection at bay. He set his sword aside, propping it within reach of the bed, and began to take his armor off, setting it down carefully so as not to damage it. He pulled off the thin tunic that protected his skin from the metal of his breastplate next and his leggings, under which he wore no smalls. Finally naked, Fenris climbed onto the bed and started tugging at his cock. The pleasure that burst through his muscles was good, made him sigh slowly and remember when he and Anders had shared this very bed. 

Thoughts of Anders led to the fantasies that had been brewing in the month since Anders had finished healing him and returned to Darktown. Thoughts of Anders on his knees begging to be touched; images of Anders on his front with his bare ass high in the air; Anders on his back with his legs spread wide like a wanton whore. It made Fenris speed up a little, pulling on his cock with his fist. 

It felt better than normally, before he had anything to think about, but old habits died hard. Speed was important, too much dallying was a security risk. 

Then again, maybe a little dallying was a risk, too.

“Fenris..? Uh, sorry, but I was looking for you and I had no idea-- For the love of the Maker, what are you doing?” Anders was peeking into the room through the partially open door; possibly he thought - very wisely - that disturbing another’s private time might result in bodily harm.

Fenris jumped in surprise and scowled, stopping what he was doing. “What do you want, Anders? Stop hiding in the door like a pervert, come in,” he grumbled. “What does it _look_ like I was doing?”

“Well, from a certain angle, it looked like you were masturbating, but I’m not sure,” Anders inched inside with a frown. “Did your penis offend you or something…? Why are you jerking like that? I mean, if there’s a reason, I’m willing to believe, but isn’t this supposed to be- fun?”

“Well I was having fun before you interrupted,” Fenris said, doing his best not to think about the images of Anders that had been running through his mind before the man himself had barged in. “And no, my penis didn’t ‘offend’ me. Why?”

“I’ll just have to make it up to you, I suppose,” Anders pulled his head between his shoulders with an expression that was equal parts apologetic and smug. “Especially, because… Different strokes for different folks, you know, but are you always in such a rush to get yourself off?”

Fenris snorted in amusement before listening to the rest of what Anders had to say. “In a rush? No, not really. Just… that’s how I always do it. Do you have an issue with how I jerk off?” Fenris asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking a little. 

Anders finally settled down on the bed. “If that works for you, then be my guest, it’s just… I've been doing this myself and saw a few others touching themselves, and no-one was in a particular hurry… Well, when you hear an armor clanking nearby, you can get the urge to finish quickly, but this place is kinda safe. No-one would want to accost you here aside maybe mercenaries and your friends. So why don’t you take your time?”

Frowning slightly, Fenris looked at Anders. “Just… go slowly? Why? What’s the point in that?” he asked, wondering if Anders was offering to lend a hand. He certainly wouldn’t complain if that was the mage’s plan. 

“I don’t know, it’s fun? Feels good?” Anders shrugged, still kind of confused. “Better, anyway? I kind of like to balance on the edge for as long as I can… the fall is all the sweeter afterwards.” He grinned. “Also, I have my magic to heighten the experience. Um, you know…” he shifted a little. “I came to ask if you’d be up to a little… stress relief. If yes, I suppose I could, perhaps, show you how I do it? So you can watch, take notes, possibly try it… How does that sound?”

Fenris swallowed, mouth suddenly dry with desire. He wanted to watch Anders touch himself. Fuck, he wanted that. And the mage had come here to offer himself? Even better. Fenris moved closer and wrapped an arm around Anders’ chest to hold him close as he moved them further onto the bed, pinning Anders underneath him. 

“I like the sound of that,” the elf said after a few moments of admiring the sight in front of him. 

“We’ll probably have a very nice evening,” Anders purred and began to unclasp his coat and leathers. He also opened his mouth and licked his lips, practically begging to be kissed. 

Fenris leaned down, almost close enough to kiss Anders, pulling back a little just as Anders leaned up to close the distance. He grinned widely before kissing the mage happily, sucking on his bottom lip before pushing his tongue into his mouth and helping with the clasps of Anders’ clothes. 

That took a few minutes; Anders pulled his legs up one after the other to loosen the clasps of his boots, all the while busily tasting the elf. Once every single fastening was loosened, he gently pushed Fenris back and stood to undress, possibly going for a bit of a show, because he moved slow and more sensually than it was necessary.

Once he was down to his smalls, Anders settled down on the bed comfortably and smiled. “Ready for your lesson?”

Fenris grinned, trailing his fingertips over every inch of Anders’ skin he could reach, along every scar he could find. “Wouldn't you rather do something more… entertaining?” Fenris asked; intrigued as he was, there were some fantasies that he wanted to enact, and he remembered that Anders had some of his own. “You taste good,” Fenris sighed as he kissed Anders again, sucking on his tongue. 

“The blessings of proper dental care,” Anders chuckled. “This one’s my own recipe so I’m glad it’s working.” He placed his hands on Fenris’ chest. “What do you mean ‘more entertaining’, have you ever watched someone properly appreciating themselves? It is said to be a very erotic experience. Just think about it…” he leaned closer to the pointy ears. “Thighs spread, skin flushed from want, eyes glazed, fingers seeking out all the good spots… Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

The thought took Fenris’ breath away and he had to admit that it sounded even better than fucking Anders. He nodded in response and sat back, rubbing the bulge in Anders’ smalls with his palm once before he settled back to watch. 

“Go on then. Show me,” Fenris said with a deep voice. 

“Have I mentioned that you have a really nice voice?” Anders breathed and he settled back, continuing where Fenris left off, by palming himself. His strokes were slow, leisurely, not aiming to get anything done, merely to tease. 

“Just like that, nice and slow,” Anders murmured. “Fantasies help. I also like to watch myself harden, but we’ll set that aside for another time… Mmm.” He slipped his hand into his smalls and continued fondling himself. 

“I can't see, mage,” Fenris chuckled teasingly, pulling Anders’ smalls down slowly. “Tell me some of your fantasies then. What do you think about when you do this for yourself?”

“Masturbation is most often done alone, so sit back, good Ser, and watch.” Anders playfully shoved Fenris back. “I shouldn’t even talk, but since you’re so impatient, I’ll try to satisfy your curiosity. Hm.” He scooted back, out of arm’s reach, his thumb stroking the skin over his penis all the while. “Uh, I’m not sure you’d like all of my prefered fantasies,” he admitted. “I’m guessing you don’t want to hear the ones about Hawke. Those with Nathaniel are good but you don’t know him… Err, any preferences?”

“I asked for your fantasies, not what you think I'd like. I do recall you mentioning some about me,” Fenris said, fingers twitching with the desire to touch. “I wasn't aware you desired Hawke.” There definitely was not a hint of jealousy in his voice. Definitely not. 

“Who doesn’t, really…?” Anders sighed, his hand moving lower to roll his balls. “He’s handsome, strong, charming… Unfortunately, he seems to be more attracted by dark skin… and recently, boobs. What I would have given for him to pin me down and ravage me until I passed out…! Well, it’s history now. Oh, I just remembered something, there was this little scenario-- I was walking in Darktown, maybe just heading for the Hanged Man, when suddenly, I encountered two templars. Someone might have tipped them off, because they immediately walked up to me, going on with their standard speech, that they know I’m an apostate and I should come along without a fuss. Of course, I’d never have any of it.” While he talked, he took his already full erection between two fingers and began to tug, keeping his eyes on those.

Fenris was intrigued; he'd never imagined that some of Anders’ sexual fantasies involved Templars in any way, but he wanted to hear the rest. His hands moved to rest on the inside of Anders’ pale thighs, rubbing up and down slowly. “And then?”

“I don’t think you understand the point of this experiment,” Anders pointed out, clearly amused. “You should work on yourself, not me, but who am I to argue with the elf wielding a sword of his exact size.” 

“I like touching you. Your skin is soft and you're beautiful in your pleasure,” Fenris explained with a slight blush. Anders didn't seem too upset though so he kept going, just touching his skin lightly.

Anders cleared his throat. “Anyway, I shook off their hands, and Justice surfaced - sometimes I think he hates templars more than I do. We swing around a bit of magic, but it bounces off the bastards, their abilities are working well. Justice growls and launches again, and the templars evade, then in synch, they smite us with an enormously powerful Dispel. That’s for canceling out any magic, you see. So like with that demon, Justice is temporarily subdued and I collapse on the ground, shaking and unable to defend myself.”

“Does Hawke come rushing in to save the day like he usually does?” Fenris asked, smiling with amusement despite his jealousy. 

Anders lowered his head coyly. “Actually, it’s you… Maker knows what you’re doing down there in the filth, but there you are, sword on your back, walking with that casual grace. Your face is expressionless as you near us; the templars have hauled me up by my arms, gauntlets pressing between my shoulderblades. I look up and I want to call for help, but one of them curls their fist into my hair, jerking my head back and hissing into my ear, something about not opening my mouth if I want to live until we reach the Gallows. I can escape still when alive, so I shut up, hoping you’ll do something.”

Fenris felt sick for being as aroused as he was by this. He would kill anyone who tried to take Anders, but for now he could entertain the motion. 

“And what do I do, mage? Do I watch while they use you, or do I use you myself?” Fenris asked, growling slightly. “Do I hold you against the stone bricks and take my pleasure from you, or do I save you and then use you once we’re free?”

“Fenris, how do you get anything done with that attitude?” Anders laughed. “I’m telling a story here, do not rush me! I liked you better with broken bones, at least then you listened.” He rolled his eyes and curled his arms around Fenris’ shoulders. “This is blown to the Void, so you can touch me, but if I tell you to slow down or stop, for the love of the Maker, do so.” 

Fenris snorted, enjoying the feeling of Anders’ arms around him. He pulled Anders’ knees over his thighs and rolled his hips, hissing in pleasure as their cocks lined up and rubbed against each other. He mouthed wetly at Anders’ throat, sucking slight marks into his skin despite the need to mark Anders with deep bruises and purple bites. 

“My apologies, mage,” Fenris said. “Continue with your story.”

“Wh-where was I--?” Anders stammered, obviously quite liking the love bites. “Oh yes. You walk up to us, give an appreciative nod to the templars, making small talk about their catch. They assure you that I’ll be dealt with and you approve and my heart breaks a little. You even give them a little smile and clap one on the shoulder as they pass you. I feel numb. Somewhat betrayed. I let them drag me away. But then suddenly, the templar on my right collapses and I catch a glimpse of the blade that was thrust through his entire body, armor and all before I fall. 

“For a few moments, I simply lie on the ground, relief washing over me, then I struggle up and watch as you defeat the other templar swiftly and effectively. Once he’s down, you haul me up roughly and drag me off into an alley, a little further from the site. You shove me against a wall, knocking the air out of me and you grab my collar to shake me and-- please, stop moving, please! - a-and you hiss into my face that I’m not allowed to get myself caught because-- because--”

Fenris stopped moving as soon as he was asked, panting against the damp skin of Anders’ neck. “Only I get to kill you, mage. No one else is permitted. You are _mine_ , do you understand? What do I do after that?” Fenris asked curiously, cock so hard that it was twitching of its own accord, straining to get against Anders’ again. 

Anders breathed in deeply, silent for a dozen or so heartbeats, then he tentatively rolled his hips, as a sign that the pleasurable activities can continue. “You snatch the knife from my belt and pin me to the wall with one hand on my throat, while you swiftly cut off my clothes. The leathers are bothersome, so I end up in coat and boots, my tunic and pants in tatters. I can feel the talons of your gauntlets scratch my neck, probably drawing blood and I’m a little short on air but I’m too weak to protest.”

Fenris carried on with the firm rolling of his hips as soon as Anders gave the signal. He lay a sharp bite on Anders’ neck that would take days to disappear without magic and sat back a little, laying his hand over Anders’ throat, squeezing ever so slightly. 

“I’d hold you against the wall by your throat, squeezing when you started squirming or misbehaving. If you started desperately trying to get away, I’d have to stop you. I'll take that knife and hold the flat of it against your throat so you can feel it, so you know that if you fidget too much it'll press against your skin a little too hard. I'd make you thank me for saving you. Maybe I'd turn you and press your face against the wall, or maybe I'd force you to your knees, run the edge of the knife along your beautiful jaw so you behave.”

“Oh, I would,” Anders panted, raking his fingers through Fenris’ hair. “I would behave. I’m proud of my pretty face and I am thankful, really. I don’t want to think about what they could have done to me at the Gallows… Possibly made me Tranquil. So I’ll do as you say. I really owe you one this time. I wish you could take the blade away though… it makes me a little unco-” he bit the word off. “Worried. A little worried. Accidents happen, after all.”

“Oh, but I'm so careful with my mage. I want to be able to put him back together once I've broken him, after all,” Fenris purred, squeezing Anders’ throat a little more. “I drop the knife to the ground anyway; I want both of my hands. I've decided what I'm going to do with you. I'll turn you around and take hold of your hair tightly and grab your throat again. I kick your feet apart a little and bend you forward to tease you until you _beg_ for me. You're so pretty when you plead for your orgasms, after all.”

Anders gasped again, eyes glazed over as the lack of air heightened his pleasure. “H-how do you tease me? I’m not hard to arouse, so you won’t need to do much-- S-stop, stop again, please! Maker, we need a safeword.” Anders dropped his head on his arm on Fenris’ shoulder. “One hand in my hair, the other on my throat. Do you just rub against me? With my ass bared, that’d feel nice too.”

Fenris stopped when he was asked, loosening the grip he had on Anders’ hair and neck. “What word do you want?” he asked. He knew the concept of safewords, but he'd never had someone he trusted enough to indulge with. It should have been odd, that the person he trusted was Anders. “I'd part your cheeks and rub my cock against you, making sure that the head of it caught on your tight little hole occasionally, teasing you until you’re fit to burst. Anyone could see us, mage, just down an alley. Does it shame you, or don't you care that anyone could witness their healer being used so?”

“I don’t care who sees me,” Anders breathed. “This is exciting, and I’m so hard, you can see me dripping on the cobblestones.” He pulled his shoulders up and snickered. “Imagine if Hawke happened upon is,” he whispered. “And the safeword is ‘griffon’.”

Fenris nodded at the word. “If Hawke found us, he'd try to stop me, wouldn't he? Would you plead him to let me carry on?”

“Honestly? I think he’d try to join in,” Anders laughed quietly. “But if he tried to stop you, I’d tell him that it’s fine… That I wanted it. Anything to finally have you inside me.” He looked at Fenris with half-lidded eyes. “So let’s shoo the Hawke away, and let us continue.” He moved closer again. “There’s some salve in the pouch on my belt. Spit is only good for fingers and I want your cock as deep as it can go.”

Fenris’ breath caught in his throat and he groaned slightly, squeezing Anders throat once before he stood from the bed and grabbed Anders’ belt, finding the salve after a moment’s searching. When he returned to the bed, he knelt between Anders’ knees and set the tiny jar down, shoving the mage's legs as wide as he could. 

“Did you come prepared for this, mage? Did you hope that I’d take you to bed?” Fenris asked, slapping his thigh. “So desperate for it that you left your clinic with the hope that I'd fuck you, like the filthy little thing you are.”

“All I had to do to achieve that was to get myself captured by two templars,” Anders bit back. “I always carry this thing with me. It warms up my hands. Don’t be surprised,” he added on a whisper. “So just shut up and fuck me, because you’ve worked me up and now I ache for some cock.”

Fenris grabbed Anders’ hair and pulled until he arched off the bed. “Are you ordering me, mage? Are you demanding? You said you'd behave. I might have to deal with you if you won't,” Fenris growled against his ear, nipping at his lobe. 

Anders cried out and tried to tug Fenris’ hand away, to ease the burning pain of his scalp. “I’ll behave! I’ll behave!” he whimpered. “I’m sorry. I’m not making demands. But please… please continue, I need it, please fuck me… I’m so hard it hurts.”

Fenris released Anders slowly, massaging his scalp with his fingertips. “Okay?” he asked softly. Just because Anders hadn't used the safeword didn't mean he didn't need to slow down or for Fenris to change his plans. He sat back and picked up the salve again, coating his fingers liberally. 

“Fine,” Anders breathed with a small nod of reassurance. He curled his arms around the elf’s shoulders again. “I’m fine with a little roughness. I can heal bruises. And I’m fairly sure I can take you.” He grinned a little. “How do you want to take me?” 

“Just checking,” Fenris chuckled, kissing him briefly. “I know it doesn't fit with this fantasy thing we have going but I want to be able to hold you.” Fenris blushed slightly and distracted Anders by teasing over his entrance and pushing one finger into him swiftly. 

“With this game, we make the rules. As well as the story, so it’s okay.” Anders shuddered as the slick finger entered him. “We can drop it altogether. Or-- It depends on how do you want to hold me. It might be doable.”

“How about I had you roughly against the wall before I took you back to the clinic to make sure you were safe and at least relatively unharmed?” Fenris suggested with a slight grin. He moved his finger slowly, opening Anders up for another one, which he pushed in just before it would have been easy to do. 

“You definitely won’t hear me protesting,” Anders quickly clarified. “Rough against a wall, that sound great. Please let the scruffy apostate thank you for the rescue.” He began to rock forward, to let their erections slide against each other again - Fenris deserved a treatment while he worked on loosening those muscles. 

“One day I will do that,” Fenris promised, moaning a little. “I’ll grab you and we can find an alley so I can fuck you. Maybe I'll have you prepare yourself every time before we go out, so you never know when it'll happen. Maybe the next time Hawke drags us to the chantry we can defile some pillar.” He grinned more. 

“Holy shit,” Anders mumbled. “I’m never going to masturbate again, I mean, what’s the point? I-- have never thought you’d be into this, and so much!” He frowned and pushed himself away from Fenris, peering at him critically. “Are you sure you’re Fenris, and not some resourceful desire demon? Or did you get hit over the head and didn’t report it to the healer? This is suspicious.”

“Shut up, mage,” Fenris grumbled. He jabbed at Anders’ prostate in punishment. “I can use you for my own pleasure and then leave you to deal with yourself if I wish. From now on, if you wish to touch yourself you must come here and ask,” Fenris demanded. Only after he’d said it did it occur to him that he should probably propose an arrangement or relationship before demanding things like that. 

Anders was grinning though, which was probably a good sign. “That’s interesting. I wouldn’t mind to try.” His grin softened to a smile. “Okay-- we’ll be, uh, for the lack of a better and the abundance of far worse names, ‘lovemates’. We can still lie with anyone we want, if we want, unless there’s some agreement like yours in place. Anyone can break up for whatever reason, no drama. Kinks and secrets are not public. If we have a problem, we discuss. Does that sound fair? Anything to add?”

“I would… request that you don't use your magic on me unless I ask or give permission. I know you wouldn't, but I need to make sure. The spirit healing feels good but most other things are painful,” Fenris explained. “We can discuss this later. For now…” Fenris pushed a third finger into Anders slowly, stretching him open. 

Anders moaned, his back arching. “Got it, no magic- Maker, yes…!” He rocked back against the slender fingers, cock swaying with the motion. “This is going to feel amazing… Just a little more and you can pound me against the mattress. Wall. Whatever. Nnhh…!”

Fenris kissed Anders firmly, licking into his mouth as he moved his fingers, spreading them to stretch him further and thrusting them in slowly. “Maker, but you are beautiful… I can't wait to see you overwhelmed and crying on my cock…”

With a delighted whimper, Anders leaned against Fenris and began to gently tug on his own erection, just to get further in the mood. At some point, he stopped abruptly though, shuddering a little. “I-- I’m ready. Take me, Fenris.”

Fenris pulled his fingers free and wiped the rest of the salve on his cock. He pulled Anders closer by grabbing his hips and tugging. Positioning his cock, Fenris began to push forward. When he was halfway in, he moved his knees further apart to get a better position and pulled Anders to sit up in his lap, the new position forcing the mage to sink even further onto his cock. He took a deep, shaky breath, sighing in pleasure. 

Anders wrapped all his long limbs around the smaller elf and held on for dear life. “You feel so good,” he whined quietly. “Just-- do whatever you want.” His lips brushed against Fenris’ ear. “I’m yours for the night.”

Fenris shivered slightly at the kiss to his ear and wrapped his arms around Anders, resting his head on Anders’ shoulder and mouthing at his throat, adding more deep marks to his skin. He began to move slowly at first, rolling his hips to pull back before thrusting back in firmly. He quickly began to pick up speed, using Anders weight to set up a rhythm. 

The healer accommodated to the motion easily, letting Fenris use him and helping him along both. Anders was getting lightheaded and it had been a while since he last had a partner, so he savored the opportunity. 

Fenris moaned against Anders’ skin, biting down on his shoulder when Anders clamped down on him, muscles tightening. Lyrium-lined hands ran wherever they could, up Anders’ back and along his thighs, squeezing his ass and stroking through his hair. It wouldn't take long for Fenris; it had been so long since he'd had sex with anything other than his hand, apart from one night with Hawke, but other than that he didn't want to remember the last time, with... He wanted to make Anders come first anyway, so he would hold off for as long as he could. 

It didn’t look like he was going to suffer much longer though. Anders was clearly enjoying the sex with all his being; he gave himself up to the feeling and sensation. He whispered some sweet nothings and encouragement to Fenris, his rhythm picking up a little eventually. “Oh yes, you can make me come this time… I’m getting close,” Anders panted. His fingers dove into Fenris’ hair. “It’s so soft… Like kitten fur.” His hips rolled a few more times, then his eyes flew open. “Oh yes, Maker, I’m coming, I’m coming…!” He pressed himself even closer to the elf’s hard body, rubbing his erection against the firm stomach muscles and finally Anders came with a desperate cry, almost arching up from Fenris’ cock, entire body trembling from the wonderful shock.

Fenris moaned loudly in surprise, the trembling shudders of Anders’ body gripping his cock and ripping the orgasm out of him, hips jerking forward to push his cock as far into Anders as he could while he emptied himself. Slowly, as the orgasm finished and his own shaking began to subside, he shifted to lay Anders down on the bed, kissing him softly and sitting back to pull out of him carefully, noticing for the first time just how many dark bruises he had left all over the mage’s throat and shoulders, not even his collarbones escaping unscathed. He didn't want to see them disappear, but he doubted Anders would want to keep them. 

“I, uh… I'm sorry, about your neck,” he eventually managed awkwardly. 

“Mmm,” Anders replied intelligently, then rolled over, partially atop Fenris. “Mmh.”

Fenris laughed softly and rolled the pair of them onto their sides, pulling the covers up over them and nuzzling against Anders. “Sleep, mage.”

“Mmm.”

The rest was soothing, comfortable silence. 


	4. A Foray Of Exploration

Fenris wanted to treat Anders. The mage had been working far too hard, with the recent outbreak of illness among the poor in Darktown and Hawke’s increasingly frequent excursions from the city. Every time that Fenris saw him, he appeared more and more tired. They had spent little time together, and Fenris most certainly was _not_ sulking about it. He wanted to ask about more of Anders’ fantasies, discover his own, find out all sorts of things about the mage that he had claimed as his own, at least temporarily. 

Deciding on a plan, Fenris bought an array of meats and fruits, as well as fresh bread, and got a few bottles of his favourite wine up from the cellar in preparation. As he left the meat to cook in the oven, he cleaned one of the rooms next to his bedroom. It must have been a nice room once, Fenris supposed as he swept away dust and dirt, straightening furniture and cleaned windows. He restocked the firewood and lay out a blanket that he'd found, piling pillows all around the outside of the square to make a sort of fort. 

With the room ready and all of the food on low tables around the pillow fort, two glasses beside the bottles of wine, Fenris left to retrieve Anders, taking the exit through the cellar into Darktown. 

Tracking Anders down was usually an easy job; he spent his time at his clinic, when not out with his friends, killing some person or creature or another. When Fenris arrived, the healer was just closing down for the night. He seemed way too thin and paler than it was healthy. His smile was genuine though. 

“Evening, Fenris. What brought you here? Shop’s closed for today, but special guests can stay for a while.” At least his spirits were still decently high; that counted for something. 

“Dinner,” Fenris said suddenly, blushing a little. “I made dinner. You have been working too hard this week, you need a break. So I made us dinner… If your spirit will allow it, there is also wine.”

“Oh.” Anders seemed surprised, but delighted. “That’s nice, thank you! I could definitely use a meal. Or two.” He locked the door. “Well, I happen to be available, and you know, Justice seems to be a bit less strict nowadays. Also a little calmer but that might be the lack of templars. Let’s go.”

Fenris decided not to mention the fact that the fewer number of Templars patrolling near the clinic was down to him killing rather a lot of them in the sewers, to the point where most of the recruits thought they were haunted. If it made Anders’ life easier then he would do near anything. 

“There is plenty to eat so you can have as much as you want,” Fenris said with a smile, fidgeting with the desire to take hold of Anders’ hand but not wanting to push the boundaries of their relationship or force Anders to do something he didn't want to. 

Said hands pressed against Anders’ chest. “You’re too good to me, really. I might have to repay your kindness somehow.” The healer batted his eyelashes, then laughed a little embarrassed. “It’s been a while we met- in the comfort of your home, I mean. It’s just, I’m so tired nowadays.” He rubbed his temples. “I wish the busy times would finally wind down. I want to sleep for eight hours straight, why is that too much to ask for?” He sighed. “When things slow down, you could drop in after hours. I know the clinic isn’t much but I’ve got some nice, sturdy… walls.”

Fenris couldn't help his slight smirk. “You just want to be somewhere where someone might catch us. That can be arranged. For now, come and eat. You are welcome to stay the night as always, not only for sex,” Fenris said, feeling brave and taking hold of his hand. “We’ll make use of those sturdy walls once you're more yourself.”

“I wouldn’t want to outstay my welcome,” Anders protested, but he didn’t try to pull his hand away. “I know you’re this rare, reclusive creature who needs a large territory. I wouldn’t want you to get frustrated by my presence. When you allow me however... “ Anders rolled his shoulders with a painful frown. “Possibly even a mouldy carpet would be better than that sorry excuse of a cot I have.”

“I can also offer a mouldy carpet if you wish,” Fenris grinned, beginning to tug Anders away, wanting to return to the mansion as soon as possible. “There is meat and some fruit, and I got some wine up from the cellar. Does that sound… okay?”

“Fenris, if you get me a single cheese wheel, that would be okay, too,” Anders assured him. “And you’re impatient again. Deprivation is not a good thing, it attracts demons, so you should stop. You can really come to the clinic if you have… problems.” He wiggled a brow and bumped their shoulders together.

Fenris huffed and rolled his eyes. “You are incredibly foolish,” Fenris said, although affection stained every inch of the words. When had Anders’ insanity gone from annoying to endearing? 

“It’s part of my charm,” Anders assured him. “You should have met me when I was younger.”

That prompted some pleasant small talk and a few anecdotes during the walk to the mansion. Anders was surprised that Fenris made the effort to more or less renovate another part of the house - the elf had been adamant about not wasting effort on the property associated with his former master. Thus, Anders felt the need to express his awe when he was shown to the new living area. 

“You did this all yourself? I can definitely tell you the money went to a good cause. It looks great!” He laughed. “Bat an eye and we’ll hold the meetings here instead of the Hanged Man. You probably have better booze, too. I especially like all the pillows, it looks so cozy. I’m sleeping on those. Is that some sort of Tevinter fashion?”

“Uh… Kind of,” Fenris admitted with a faint blush. “The other slaves weren't permitted cots large enough for two people to share with their… lovemates, and so they would take their blankets and cushions and made a bed somewhere else. I only know about it because I once caught them and took them to Danarius; it was forbidden.”

“Uh.” Anders frowned. “Well, I’ve seen similar things happening, but- You outed them to your master, really? Mages like that back at Kinloch often found themselves locked out of any inner circle. We used to say, if they’re not with us, let them be with the templars.”

“I was on Danarius’ side. I was kept separate from the other slaves. I lived in quarters attached to his, with my own bed and bathing chamber. I was well-looked after. All I had to do was give over my free will and ensure the other slaves followed the rules,” Fenris said quietly. “I am not proud, mage.”

“I- know,” Anders nodded. “It’s just hard to understand. I have never given up my free will, and while I am aware that people do it out of necessity, despair, fear… It’s still hard to accept. But understanding and acceptance aren’t always the same.” He gently squeezed Fenris’ wrist. “Also, the innuendo isn’t lost on me, but there is food and I skipped lunch.”

Fenris nodded and encouraged Anders to sit, moving to pour two glasses of wine after telling Anders to help himself to the food that was out. 

“I'll go and get the meat,” Fenris announced before dashing off to the kitchen to retrieve the warm piece of beef and a sharp knife to slice it, plates and cutlery already in the other room. 

Anders didn’t need to be told twice to make himself at home; he picked at the bread and the cheese, sampled the wine and set his coat aside. A few months ago, he wouldn’t have believed that he will feel comfortable and relaxed in the home of his greatest opponent, but things change sometimes. He eyed the pillows with a smile. He was looking forward to try them.

Fenris returned almost shyly, kneeling down on one of the pillows to set down the small platter that the beef was resting on. There was something incredibly… satisfying about seeing Anders in his house, eating happily amongst his things. 

“I would see you more often,” Fenris blurted suddenly. “If you would allow it.”

“What have I been telling you several times?” Anders cocked a brow. “That you can come to see me any time. If I’m not busy, I’ll definitely dedicate my time to you. Hopefully the outbreak is contained by now, so the influx of patients will stop. Sometimes I sit at the clinic for hours with nothing to do aside my manifesto.”

“Good,” Fenris said, nodding to himself as he sliced the meat, putting some on the plates they would be using. “The night after tomorrow, are you free? I want you to prepare yourself and wait for me to come to you. We’ll make good use of those walls you're so fond of.”

Anders bit his lower lip with a gin. “Damn it, I’m already excited. Unless anything urgent comes up, I’m definitely free. And I hope nothing urgent comes up because, you see…” He tipped his head to the side coyly. “I remembered what you told me last time, and I haven’t touched myself ever since.”

Fenris grinned widely. “Not at all? Good. Perhaps we should do something about that after we've eaten,” Fenris mused, taking a bite of some bread, acting as if he'd said nothing. 

“Just something very easy and inexhaustive,” Anders suggested. “It’s not fortunate to do a lot of exercise after a meal. Especially after the meal I’m going to have.” He launched at the roast, and he began to eat like always: like a well-mannered but starving man. He wasn’t shy about seconds and even thirds, though he was noticeably sticking more to water than wine. 

Never one to eat overly much, Fenris picked slowly at his food, happy to simply watch Anders eat. He was feeding his mage, lessening how far his ribs poked out from under his skin. He shouldn't have found as much joy in that as he did, so he distracted himself with thinking of what he wanted to do with Anders’ tonight.

The dinner progressed in silence mostly, but it was not uncomfortable at all. Finally, Anders leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “Maker, I don’t even remember the last time I was actually full. Thank you so much, I really needed this.” Now he filled his cup with wine and raised it in a toast. “To a generous host. Now, I feel inclined to sit by the fire on those pillows, picking the fruit and cheese, sampling the wine and talking until we really get in the mood… How about that?”

Fenris nodded quietly and lay down, stretching out languidly. The surface of the pillows were cool against his bare arms. “Tonight will you let me mark you? I want to see your thighs red with my marks and your throat bruised. You can heal it before you go if you want to, but I thought I'd ask first.”

“You had no problem with that last time,” Anders pointed out, stretching out comfortably, like a lazy cat. “It took a few days for them to fade. However, the permission is given. I like it when a lover marks me.” He frowned at the ceiling thoughtfully. “It’s just so weird, and it doesn’t make sense. I would have fought tooth and nails if a templar tried to do anything to me, and I never let anyone break my spirit, but I like it rough and I like the shame and I like to be helpless. How does that even work?”

Fenris was quiet as he considered it. He'd never really thought about his sexual preferences. He didn't know if he would like anything like the things Anders enjoyed because of his past - but how many of his own preferences stemmed from his treatment in the hands of Danarius. 

“I don't know,” Fenris admitted eventually, not wanting to admit just how much the question had thrown him. “Instead of talking about how rough you like it, why don't we explore it a little more?”

“Let me digest in peace!” Anders laughed. “Maker, Fenris, must you always hurry so much? I’m not going anywhere, and I’m really looking forward to the sex, but communication is important. Oh, and I just remembered the other day that you eventually agreed to learn to read. There’s another merit in that: we could send each other messages. Like, ‘I’m thinking about you right now, naked and tied up on my bed’ or ‘Tomorrow, at midnight, a stranger will ravish you, be prepared’.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow in question. “I’m sure it will take a while before I can even read that many words in one go. Why do you want to teach me, anyway? It’ll be like trying to teach a child. Worse,” Fenris grumbled as he sat up with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t need to bother, you know. We agreed this was only to be sex, it isn’t necessary to try and… _educate_ me.”

“Just because that is true, it doesn’t mean we can’t be f- friendly,” Anders said, just a touch too quickly. “The deal was struck before the agreement, anyway. It just irks me that you can’t read, okay? And, you agreed to teach me Tevene. That’d help me a lot. And don’t worry, I’m actually very good with children. Got a lot of patience, too.”

“Hm.” Fenris was quiet for a while, looking at the fire with a frown on his face. “Fine. Tevene is complicated though. I am not a patient man and you can be incredibly annoying,” he reminded. “I will… do my best, as an exchange for learning to read though.” 

“Maybe you should teach me while you have your dick inside me, that way I’m less annoying,” Anders remarked cheekily. “I also keep babbling about what I like, and I’m yet to hear anything from you… I mean, I understand that you’re reluctant to give up any vital information, but- good sex means both parties are happy. If you let me know what you prefer, I’ll try to accommodate.” 

“Nothing that we speak about between us is to travel any further than the two of us,” Fenris said firmly, pinning Anders with a hard look. “If I discover that you have told anyone, there will be consequences. I will extend the same courtesy.” Fenris shifted awkwardly for a moment, trying to find the words to explain. “I, uh… I like to… Fuck, mage, do you have any idea how difficult this is? I want to choke you and bite you and scratch you. I want to force my cock down your throat until you can’t breathe. I want to take you to the very edge and not let you come.”

“Suddenly, I’m thankful to the templars for teaching me that a mage shouldn’t fall in love,” Anders cocked a brow. “I’d suffer if we were a couple. You’re a such a violent beast. It’s fortunate that I have no objections whatsoever.” He chuckled. “That can be arranged. Now and then at least, I’ll need a little time to recover between sessions.” He stretched languidly. “Is it just the deep hatred toward me, or did you want to do the same things to Hawke as well?”

Fenris tensed where he sat. The mage had thought about them as a couple? Even though this arrangement had been _his_ suggestion? Fenris huffed and watched his hands curled and uncurl slowly as he considered his answer for a moment. 

“I don’t hate you, mage,” he admitted reluctantly. “You’re annoying and… Incredibly irritating and sometimes I want to stab you but… I don’t hate you. It was different with Hawke; that isn’t what he wanted from me. Not that it matters now anyway. We shared a night, I left, he moved on.”

“At least you had that.” Anders rose and refilled his cup. He was silent for a while, staring into a fire. “Why did you run? It made Hawke run to Isabela.” He started into the wine. “Maybe all we ever do is run. Every single one of us is running away from something.”

“Such is life,” Fenris said with a shrug. “I know I will spend the rest of my life running from slavers, even after Danarius is dead. His tales of me extended much further than the walls of the estate. As for Hawke, does it really matter? It’s in the past.”

“We can’t run forever,” Anders whispered, the flames reflecting in his eyes and spiritfire lighting up on his skin. “That is no life. You have to stop running eventually and put your foot down.” The blue glow snuffed out and Anders shook himself, startled. “I- think this conversation took the wrong turn, let’s go back to talking about the sex.” He took a deep drink from his wine.

“I suppose I can agree to that,” Fenris said with a small grin. “What do you think of what I want? You only said it could be arranged, not that you wanted it too. I believe you said that good sex means both parties are happy.”

“No, no, I was actually agreeing,” Anders latched on the topic change. “That all sounded, uh, right up my alley. I’d prefer if you didn’t draw blood, unless it’s a miniscule amount… scratches sometimes bleed. But I like it when a lover bites me. Would you mind the same?” He chuckled. “Like two horny werewolves, all the growling and biting.”

“I wish to hurt you, not harm you,” Fenris said, before frowning when he realised that the two didn’t sound too different. “I want you to enjoy this too. I agree, although… When I blow you, I would prefer if you didn’t grab my hair. You can touch but not grab. It, uh, brings up bad memories.”

“Oh, alright. I’ll try to remember that,” Anders nodded. “Don’t hesitate to stop me if I do anything you don’t like. What about your ears? They kinda beg for being nibbled.”

Fenris blushed softly. His ears were ridiculously sensitive. “That’s, uh… That’s okay. If you do something wrong, I’ll stop you. I need you to do the same.” Fenris grabbed his glass of wine and finished it. “Would you like more?”

“Just half a cup,” Anders held out his glass. “I can feel Justice getting suspicious. He might think you’re trying to get me drunk. Let’s just firmly settle on things now so there won’t be constant second-guessing. We’ll both speak up when we’re uncomfortable, period. You can have a safeword, too. And as little character breaking during role games as possible. It’s better that way. Also, if an idea comes up, we’ll discuss it. No freaking out, no fits, no negative opinions, if we don’t like it, we’ll simply say no. No judging the other for liking weird things.”

Fenris relaxed at that and nodded as he poured Anders half a glass of wine, filling his own. “Okay. We should probably start small and build up to more dangerous things. Like your rape fantasy - don’t think I’ve forgotten about that. I’m happy to oblige, as long as I know you trust me. What do you want from tonight?”

“I mainly came for the dinner and that’s done, so the conversation is already a pleasant bonus,” Anders smiled. “I like that last bit. About the building up things.” He hesitantly reached out and placed a hand on Fenris’ shoulder. “I like a lot of weird and violent things but- I also like it slow and sweet. Just sitting here and talking it’s- it’s a bit like a fantasy in itself. It feels good, warm… safe. Maybe we could go slow this time. No hurry, nothing rough, but something lazy and possibly explorative? A game of ‘find the good spots’.”

Fenris thought about it for a moment, glass pausing halfway to his lips. “I… suppose that could work.” If slow and sweet was the closest Anders wanted to get emotionally, then that simply made Fenris’ life easier. It wasn’t like he was in love with the mage. 

“Do I have to know anything else?” Anders inquired, shifting a little closer. “I remember, no magic aside spirit healing, because it hurts you. You didn’t seem to be affected before but… I wouldn’t want to see you go soft in the middle of the fun just because I accidentally did something.” His hand lowered to Fenris’ thigh, rubbing it subtly. 

Fenris flinched at the touch automatically, but relaxed again immediately after, placing his hand over Anders’ so he didn’t pull away. “It’s difficult to explain, but… Sometimes getting hard hurts, but- It’s a good kind of hurt though, but I don’t-” Sighing in frustration at not knowing how to explain himself, Fenris scowled. “I know you aren’t a blood mage, so most of your spells won’t be as bad as-” He stopped himself. “As bad as it could be. I don’t know what I like, really,” he admitted hesitantly. “Most of it’s theoretical, but I haven’t- I wasn’t allowed… Maker, but this is difficult.”

“Hey.” Anders tipped his head to the side, and his smile all but lit up the room. “You just have to get over the self-consciousness. A lot of things feel foolish when you say them out loud, but say them anyway. I get that you are unsure about what you like, and I’ll be happy to help you find out. Free sex- I mean, sex when it happens because you simply feel like it, is amazing and life is too short to not enjoy it. I’ll keep your secrets, I promise.” He gently touched Fenris’ face with his free hand. “Can I kiss you? Actually, is kissing allowed every time? I’m all up for it.”

Fenris couldn’t help the way he turned his face into the touch, but he didn’t bother answering in words. Instead, he simply leaned forward to kiss Anders softly, hesitantly. When he pulled back after a few moments, he blushed and murmured, “Kissing is fine.”

“That’s good,” Anders whispered, and his lips brushed against Fenris’. “I like kissing. In the Circle I come from, everyone was kissing everyone.” Next, his lips ghosted over Fenris’ ear. “We can begin the exploration. Just remember to go slow. Give it a chance, it might grow on you.” He laid back against the pillows again and his long fingers began to quest for the fastenings on Fenris’ tunic. “Would you like to undress me?”

“Yes…” Fenris breathed, hands skimming lightly over Anders’ arms. His fingers undid the clasp at Anders’ throat and he leaned down to kiss every inch of pale skin that was revealed. He licked slowly up the middle of Anders’ chest and kissed his throat, mouthing at his skin. 

The tip of the healer’s long nose buried into the thick but fine white hair. “You smell nice,” Anders murmured. “Your hair, your skin. And your body is so warm.” His fingers snuck underneath clothing, to feel more of the elf’s dark skin. “Tell me where you like to be touched.”

“I don’t know,” Fenris admitted. “I’ve never… I only... ” The only reference he had for sex was Danarius and Hawke, and with Hawke it had been far too rushed to discover his pleasure spots. He also didn’t exactly want to bring thoughts of Danarius into this. “My ears,” he said eventually. 

“I thought I noticed a little reaction when I mentioned them,” Anders mused. “That’s all, though…? I’m getting this feeling that your master didn’t just use you for bodyguarding and while I get that you didn’t have a chance to explore your kinks, you- don’t even know your own body…?” 

“Not really,” Fenris said softly, trailing his fingertips through the fine hair on Anders’ chest, so different to his own smooth chest. “I was forbidden from touching myself without his permission. I didn’t want to. With Hawke, we were both too focused on actual sex that we didn’t take the time. Sometimes Danarius would loan me to his friends for a night but that was never for my benefit. I feel like… You can change your mind if you want, I know I’m not… ideal.”

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait.” Anders blinked in alarm and placed his hand on Fenris’ shoulders. “I wanted to hear more of your slave life but that was a little more than I was asking for. I- I should have expected the restrictions but he just- he made you have sex with others when you- when you didn’t want to-?” His brows knit from worry and compassion.

“I don’t think you quite understand the concept that he _owned_ me,” Fenris pointed out, sitting back, only to realise that he was straddling Anders. He blushed a little but didn’t move. “It is a sign of respect, to allow another to make use of your body slave. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not that!” Anders protested hotly. “To the Void with my comfort, you just told me that you were basically raped! I’ve seen my fair share of rape and abuse victims. One of my best friends at the Circle was raped and she never really recovered. This is serious, and I don’t want to cause you pain by saying or doing something.” He worried his teeth over his lower lip. “I know it’s not a pleasant topic, but maybe we should still talk about it. I have honestly-” He bit the sentence off and looked away. “I never considered that your experiences were really… that bad. Sweet Andraste, I’m going to cry in the corner.”

“Don’t,” Fenris said, feeling incredibly awkward. What was he supposed to say? “It happened, it’s in the past. I’m not saying it’s something I _enjoy_ thinking about but I’ve accepted that there’s nothing I can do about it. My retribution will come when I rip Danarius’ heart from his chest. We can talk about it if you wish but I don’t feel it necessary. It’s different, than thinking about Danarius. With them, there were no… emotions. With Danarius there were.”

“It’s amazing how unfazed you are…” Anders remarked cautiously, his ears still burning. “You’re really strong. Or maybe there’s something I’m unaware of. You really- liked your master? How did it- feel like, to belong to someone so completely? It looks like when you’re a slave, there’s barely any of you. If that makes any sense.”

“I was proud,” Fenris admitted reluctantly. “There was no purpose that I could not serve. There were no other body slaves, I was the only personal bodyguard, I was in charge of the slaves when it was necessary and I answered only to Danarius and Hadriana. I was _proud_ of my position. I thought I loved him. It wasn’t until I escaped in Seheron that I realised how wrong I was.”

Anders reached out and began to thread a fingertip through Fenris’ hair. He seemed thoughtful. “It was all you ever knew. All you’ve been told, and you believed it. Like mages believe that they don’t deserve to see the Maker’s light. It gets to your head and washes you clean so whatever was inside could be replaced with lies.” He swallowed, slow flames dancing in his eyes. “Aside the pride, how did it feel to have no will at all…? To just- let someone else be in charge.”

“It never really felt like that. Not often anyway. He was good at manipulating me. Although it was… good, I suppose. At least a little. I don’t know. Why?” Fenris asked cautiously, eyes narrowing.

“Because,” Anders whispered, “I wouldn’t mind that. I wouldn’t mind you… being my master, when we play.” His eyes drifted shut. “I understand if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. It’s just something I’ve always wondered about.”

Fenris blinked in surprise but started to trail his fingers more firmly up Ander’s chest and throat. “You want to be my slave when we play? I would… rather not call it that, but I am open to at least trying. I don’t think it would be a problem for me, but I don’t know. We can think about it in the future.”

“You could be the benevolent master,” Anders smiled, leaning into the touch. “One who cares about their property. I could be your pet, perhaps. Your precious kitten. Or maybe even a toy… a doll. Something like that.”

“You just want an excuse to be a cat,” Fenris grinned. “Alright. I can agree to that.” He leaned down and teased Anders with an almost-kiss, grinning after a few moments before kissing him firmly, licking at his lips as his fingers began to slowly undo the laces of Anders’ trousers. 

The healer’s bony hips moved into his hands and Anders moaned with delight. “We’re going to have a lot of fun. I’ll find at least one good spot on you aside your ears, we’ll get to come tonight, and you’ll drop in the night after tomorrow. I’ll be waiting, loosened up and eager.” While he talked, his hands skimmed Fenris’ sides and back. “I can’t wait to finally try all the special spells and recipes I’ve learned in the Circle! Don’t worry, most of it won’t hurt you at all.”

Fenris hesitated for just a moment but carried on undoing the laces of Anders’ trousers. “If you're sure. Lift your hips.” Fenris waited for Anders to comply before he began to pull his trousers and smalls down an inch at a time, kissing his skin as it was revealed, eventually reaching the head of his cock. 

He was rewarded with a shuddering gasp. Anders was already half-hard, and his erection was slowly but steadily developing. “This is kind of exciting, too,” he pointed out. “Being naked while you’re still clothed, being laid bare for a scrutinizing gaze. It’s rare for me to be completely naked, you see.”

“I like having you vulnerable beneath me,” Fenris said, rubbing Anders’ cock with the heel of his hand. “I like knowing that you are naked because of me. That you're hard because of me. You will be naked much, much more from now on, mage. Perhaps I should make you strip as soon as you enter the building. Have you ready for me to use at any time.”

Anders gulped and his cock twitched under Fenris’ palm. “This is ridiculous. Simply hearing the words is making me harder. One of these days, you should try to talk me into an orgasm.” He let himself relax, placing his arms next to his body, palm down; his thighs opened a little. “Too bad your mansion is so run down. It’s a miracle you haven’t injured your soles. Then again… perhaps I could keep my boots on? Everything else would be off though, as I present myself to the lord of the house, to see if he’s satisfied with me.” 

Fenris chuckled lowly. “You like my voice? You like it when I tell you what I'm going to do to you. I could clean up the mansion. That way even your ridiculous boots can come off. But for now, I am incredibly satisfied with what I see.” 

He pulled a vial of oil out from under the pillow where he’s stashed it earlier, setting it down on the blanket as he slowly undid the laces of his leggings, making sure Anders was watching as he did so. He popped the cork purposefully slowly, making a show of dribbling it all over his fingers. 

“You do have a nice voice,” Anders pointed out, watching the display intently. “Especially when you lower it for whatever purpose. So yes, you can always tell me what you’d like to do to me, or what you are doing. Right now, tell me if I should move at all, or if you’d be satisfied with simply arranging me as you see fit without me moving a muscle.”

“Just stay still,” Fenris said, spreading Anders’ thighs wide and sitting back for a moment to admire the sight of him, humming to himself. He teased a fingertip against Anders’ entrance, then he pushed one slick finger in. 

The healer’s eyes drifted shut and he drew in a shuddering breath, relaxing further and tipping his head back a little as it rested on the pillow. His skin was getting flushed with arousal, making him look more healthy, and the constant lines of stress on his face smoothed out as well. 

There was something about the pinkness of Anders’ skin that made Fenris want to lick at every inch of him, so he leant down to mouth along his chest, sucking marks into it. Fenris pulled his finger out to rearrange themselves a little so he could bite and nip at the insides of Anders’ thighs, leaving possessive bruises as he thrust his finger back in, adding another after a moment. 

Anders’ back arched and he moaned, but his thighs spread even further, allowing Fenris between them. The slight pain definitely did nothing to diminish Anders’ erection; his slender penis wept pearly drops of precome over the flat belly. “Oh, I can’t wait for you to be inside me,” he breathed.

Fenris glanced up as he curled his two fingers inside Anders to stroke along his prostate. He rubbed a third finger against his entrance slowly, teasing rather than entering. 

Anders licked his lips and cracked an eye open with a grin. “Do they have toys in Tevinter? From what I’ve heard about them, they do.”

“Things more obscene than anything you'd find in Antiva,” Fenris told him with a grin. “Why, are you planning to procure some, mage? Is my cock not good enough for you?” He took the opportunity to sink his third finger into Anders’ entrance, thrusting them slowly. 

“Sure it is enough,” Anders moaned with delight, “but your cock can’t be inside me for hours to end. I mean, you need to eat sometimes.” He snickered at his joke and spread his legs even further apart. “Wouldn’t it be beneficial to use something to keep me ready? Sweet Andraste, I’m deprived. Not that I care. Something that’d sit securely inside… maybe with a tail attached? Since I proposed to be your cat.”

Fenris laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I'll see what I can do. You are a fool,” he said, though there was no bite in the words. “You want something that I can just pull out and fuck you, then put it back in? You want to constantly know who you belong to?”

“I can’t promise I’ll never take it out, but yes, it’d be a reminder.” Anders glanced at Fenris curiously. “Would you get a kick out of that? Knowing that even if we don’t as much as stand near, you’re controlling me, teasing me?”

“That’d be to my liking,” Fenris said, spreading his fingers wide, deciding that Anders was ready for him. “Perhaps I'd get you to wear it when we go out with Hawke. That way I can _watch_ you too.”

“Oh dear. That’d be a huge distraction, wouldn’t it?” Anders pondered. “I’ll need to test if I can bear it… I mean, it wouldn’t be fun for me to just fall on my knees and cream my pants instead of flinging deadly spells at opponents… Or, it’d be fun, but not the right kind. You know… it reminds me of the good old Circle days. Sometimes we’d decide to wear absolutely nothing underneath our robes. It was a little exciting, even though we knew everyone in the building, some quite intimately… I never got to try that, say, at a city market.”

“Perhaps you should, then. Are you ready for me, mage?” Fenris asked, pulling Anders’ knees over his hips and rubbing his cock against his entrance slowly to tease him. He had to bite his lip at the pleasure of it. 

“Yes,” Anders whispered. “Always ready for my master. Am I allowed to move now?”

Fenris hesitated at the word ‘master’ but didn't mention it, deciding to bring it up later instead. “You can move,” Fenris said, just before he began to push slowly into Anders, hissing at the tight heat of him. 

Long-fingered hands crept up along his arms to wind themselves around his wrists and slender legs tightened around Fenris’ waist. Otherwise, Anders simply accepted it, letting Fenris fill him. He watched the elf with shining eyes and a curious expression, almost too gentle for someone who was merely in for quenching the carnal urges. 

Fenris couldn't bear to see Anders looking at him like that - like he _mattered_ \- so he buried his face in the mage’s neck to busy himself with sucking marks into the pale skin as he moved, slowly at first, before building up a little faster and with more force. 

The healer didn’t make it easier though; he wound his lanky arms around Fenris, caressing his side while his other hand sneaked into the white hair in an attempt to keep the elf’s mouth where it was. Anders locked his ankles and rose to meet every thrust, urging Fenris even deeper. The both of them were basically a tight bundle of limbs and arousal.

The feelings that Anders’ hand in his hair brought out confused Fenris to no end. It felt… good. It felt like… Pushing the thoughts away, Fenris focused on thrusting into Anders firmly, one hand helping to support him while the other travelled up and down Anders’ body, scratching along the enticing pale skin of his thighs. He paused for a moment to change their angle so he could get even deeper into Anders, and also rub over his prostate while he did. 

It was definitely a rewarding move; it made Anders gasp loudly. “Yes, oh fuck yes,” he moaned. “Make me come, please make me come…!” His long nose brushed against Fenris’ ear and he pressed small kisses against the elf’s temple and jaw. “That feels so good, please don’t stop…!”

Stopping was the last thing on Fenris’ mind, actually speeding up his movements, gripping Anders’ hips to pull him back onto every thrust. He bit down on Anders’ throat carefully, soothing the bite with a slow swipe of his tongue. One of his hands grabbed for Anders’ cock, stroking him as in time with his thrusts as he could. 

“Come for me, mage,” Fenris said, nibbling on Anders’ earlobe. “When you're ready, come for me…”

“Thank you.” Anders’ voice was barely audible, possibly because the pleasure stole it. He let his head roll back and his eyes close, concentrating on the sensations only. 

Fenris froze where he was, face still buried against Anders’ throat. Memories of having to say those words with every orgasm rushing back to knock him flat. He took a shaky breath. “You don't need to thank me, Anders,” he said softly, because even ‘mage’ was too impersonal, left him too caught up in memories of being addressed as ‘elf’. “Please don't.”

“I just-” Anders blinked in alarm, tensing up a little, but he relaxed after a few heartbeats. “Alright. I’ll try to remember.” He nudged Fenris gently, until he looked up, so they could kiss. “Keep moving,” Anders pleaded and with a small smile, he added, “Take me to the Golden City.”

Fenris couldn't help his small smile as he kissed Anders again, picking up his movements once more. It was all much more… gentle than he’d expected. He didn't like it. Well, he did, but he didn't like the confusion that came with it. This didn't feel like just sex. 

Anders was oblivious to his plight, however, getting back into the mood after the brief stop quite quickly. With every thrust and tug, he came closer, volume rising a bit and body tensing a little until his waist arched and his fingers dug into Fenris’ shoulders where he held the elf, coming all over his pale stomach and the dark hand pumping him.

Fenris pulled back a little without stopping his movements so he could watch Anders’ face. He was right; the mage was beautiful in his pleasure. He pinched Anders’ nipple ever so slightly and continued to work him through the orgasm. It wasn't too long later that Fenris found himself teetering on the edge, thrusts becoming erratic until he came with a groan deep inside Anders. 

The impossibly long legs all but locked him in place, too. Anders watched intently, still breathing heavily from the lovely shock, and when he decided that Fenris spent everything he had, he reached for the elf to tug him back into an embrace. 

Fenris went easily into Anders’ arms, curling against him without his body consulting his mind. He was quiet for a few moments, just enjoying the quiet closeness before he eventually said with a hint of amusement, “I should probably take my clothes off.”

“Not for a little while longer,” Anders purred. “I like to feel them on my naked skin. And it’s not that you smell bad.” He nuzzled Fenris for another kiss. “I remember, no thanking, but let me state that I loved every second of tonight, even if things didn’t turn out as planned. Well, men’s plans are not written on stone, as they say. I’ll have all the more fun finding your spots later.”

At least that meant a next time, Fenris thought to himself. Although… “Later, or next time?” he asked, wanting to work out whether the mage planned to stay for another round at least. 

“Next t-” Anders blinked. “You- want another go or something…? I can very probably still get it up again but-” he shrugged. “I’m not- I didn’t have the chance to get used to seconds.”

Fenris shrugged too. “I don't mind. You are welcome to stay, if you wish. There is more meat if you are still hungry, and plenty of wine in the cellar.”

“You’re spoiling me.” Anders looked like a kitten who was presented with a full bowl of cream. “I must admit… this Tevinter decadence is really tempting.” He traced his index fingers between Fenris’ white tresses. “Can I ask why I shouldn’t thank you…?”

“I used to have to say thank you for every orgasm I was permitted, before and after. I would… rather you not have to do that, especially during sex,” Fenris explained, sighing softly as Anders’ fingers played in his hair. 

“Oh, I see. I understand. When I thank you, I’m meaning it though, but I get it. Can’t promise I’ll never slip, but you’ll probably notice the difference.” Anders playfully smooched Fenris’ forehead. “There’s also this one thing I’ve been wondering about. Why do you- I, uh, hope it won’t dredge up some awful memory, but why do you have no foreskin?”

Fenris grinned and laughed a little, pulling out of Anders carefully and laying against his side. 

“It's a common thing in humid countries apparently. Usually slaves aren't deemed important enough for the procedure but I assume Danarius did it before I lost my memories.” Fenris shrugged but then frowned as if something had only just occurred to him. “When I was in Seheron, everyone was the same, no matter their station.”

“Really? Hm, that does make sense,” Anders mused. “I have seen a few people with… bald cocks, but most often, they belonged to the Chantry. It’s not an uncommon practice for Chantry brothers, and for some templars, mostly those who were trained from childhood. There was one mage in Kinloch who had a nasty accident.” He studied the ceiling. “In some Circles, they might perform the surgery on mages. Our First Enchanter was rather influential and easygoing though, so we could keep our assets. It’s a fun assortment, actually.”

“They would forcibly perform surgery?” Fenris asked, frowning. “With what goal in mind?” He could think of no reason that would make the Chantry circumcise mages. What benefit of control would it have?

“Same idea as the Chantry has I’d wager,” Anders pulled himself up a little against the pillows. “Removing the skin exposes the glans, and the sensitive skin thickens over time, as it is constantly rubbed by the clothes. It becomes less sensitive, so I suppose that’s a way to gently discourage people from having sex. Chantry personnel cannot marry, and are to devote their life to service, so distractions are unneeded. Maker, why did I have to think of Sebastian…?” Anders buried his face into his hands. “I did not need that thought. At all. Ugh.” He shook himself. “Anyway, since mages are not expected to marry either and are definitely discouraged from having children, I wouldn’t put past some Knight-Commanders to enforce the procedure.” He frowned. “Oddly enough, either Meredith didn’t care or they spared the adults…”

Fenris considered this quietly, absentmindedly trailing his fingers up and down Anders’ chest. “It is the same with slaves. Not the surgery, but the marriage, and the children. Slaves can be forced to have children by their master; it's a free way of getting more slaves, and the children can be used as leverage if the parents begin to misbehave. Any slaves found to be having sexual relations are often executed, or forcibly taken as a body slave. A master may use any of his slaves but only body slaves are trained in the art of pleasure.”

“We do come from similar places,” Anders stated. “So… you were trained to know how to- make someone happy?” Something hit him suddenly and he perked up. “Have you ever been with a woman, actually?”

“Danarius had female friends too, and Hadriana,” Fenris said softly. “And yes, I was trained to please. I have never found a woman I was interested in.”

“Too much titty,” Anders teased. “Then again, Hawke has quite a chest, too.” He turned to his side to cuddle. “They ain’t worth the trouble. Most of the time, anyway. Aside Hawke’s sister, the most decent woman I’ve known was a dwarf girl. She liked my cat.”

Fenris was quiet for a moment, Anders cuddling against him a surprise. It took a few long moments for him to find words. “Why have you not got another cat? You often talk about your old one.”

Now it was Anders’ turn to be quiet. “I didn’t dare, I suppose,” he admitted eventually. “I get attached easily. There are no cats in Darktown and I dare to think of the reasons. Also- Justice, I suppose, haven’t really managed to grasp the concept of pets yet… I remember him accusing me of keeping Pounce as a slave. He didn’t complain that much though afterwards… So I suppose it boils down to the fact that I haven’t yet found the right one.” 

“You should try and find one. I'm sure there is some stray having kittens in Kirkwall,” Fenris said, letting his eyes close against a sudden tiredness and almost pleasant ache in his lyrium. 

“Hmm-mm. Are you tired?” Anders inquired, sneaking a hand down over the elf’s back, to a convenient spot just above Fenris’ firm rear. “We can rest, but should probably pack up a little first.”

“Why?” Fenris asked, opening one eye to look at Anders, smirking just a little at the touch to his backside. “No one will bother us. I do find myself suddenly in need of a nap. I blame you.” He chuckled softly. 

“I’m really just worried about the food. But here’s a compromise: I’ll take the leftover meat to that nice cool storage you have, and while I’m away, you’ll make us a bed here.” Anders sat up and smoothed his hair back. “Perhaps after a nap, we could… have that second round you were talking about, but I’m not going to make plans, aside that I’d occupy your bathroom in the morning for a while. Or at least the well, this mansion is still a mystery to me.”

Fenris chuckled softly, stretching out. “We could always go to my actual bed. There is very little of the mansion that I use. Most of it is in disrepair, aside from this room, my bedroom, the kitchens and the bathroom. There is a large bath with taps and a heating rune if you wish to make use of it. Tevinter engineering is quite a spectacle.”

“Don’t bother making the bed, I’m sleeping in the tub,” Anders grinned. “Oh. Oh wait. You have an actual tub. With a heat rune. I’ve found the Maker’s bosom. Do you have an idea how much fun we can have in a tub, steam curling around us mingling with the scent of imported soap? Oh dear, I’m getting tears in my eyes!” He crawled back to the table and poured himself a sip of wine. “Kinloch Hold is a very old building, and I’m fairly sure some ‘Vints had a say in its construction, because the bathchambers were excellent. Since there were so many mages around, everything was covered in useful runes and there was enchanted equipment, and we actually had to make soap for one of the classes. That’s one thing I miss about the old days. I’ve learned a few very interesting things in those chambers and made a few really good memories.”

“Interesting things? In the baths? Oh, do share, mage,” Fenris chuckled. “As for imported soap, I'm afraid I threw out all of the scented soaps that Danarius stocked. I tried to use it once and had nightmares. Mine is rough and scentless.”

“Leave that up to me, I’m a healer and an herbalist,” Anders waved generously. “Let me see- hot water relaxes both your mind and your muscles, and you’re more- pliant, a tiny bit more flexible like that. Any mess can be cleaned up immediately. Also, there’s this trick- and I’m glad we can speak about these things openly, because it’s outrageous - you can basically make yourself look like a girl down there. It’s a pain in the butt if you’d like to keep it like that without one hand constantly occupied, but the sight is decadent.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow curiously. “Oh? And what would that entail? I do enjoy the thought of holding you against the side of the tub and fucking you,” he remarked. 

Anders laughed. “Do you expect me to give out all my secrets? Come on, Fenris. Let’s leave a little mystery for the next meeting as well. And the one after that and so on. You wanted to nap a couple of heartbeats ago. Shall we take a few pillows to your bed?”

“Alright,” Fenris said, standing and grabbing an armful of pillows and heading down the hall to his bedroom, dropping them on the bed. “Will you rest with me, mage?” he asked, trying to sound indifferent but coming out more curious than anything. 

“You offered me a bed,” Anders pointed out, “and it’d be a lot nicer than my cot. One of these days, the canvas will rip and I’ll be sleeping on the floor. So I’m staying. Apologies if I wake up screaming, it’ll pass quickly.” He quickly slipped under the cover, making himself comfortable with a pleased grin. 

“You are not the only one with nightmares,” Fenris said as he arranged the pillows to his liking before lying down on his side so he could still look at Anders. “I will wake you if you have one and don't wake up immediately.”

“You have them, too?” Anders shifted closer. “I can make you something for it. Come to think of it, I might be able to forge your some defenses against any unwanted visitors… I hope it hasn’t come back?”

“No, but I have always had nightmares, though much more often after I ran away,” Fenris said. “You can make things to help with nightmares?”

“Mages learn early how to- ‘switch off their minds’, so to speak,” Anders explained. “There are herbal solutions that ease the mind, soothe it, deepen the sleep; unfortunately, they shouldn’t be used too often. But sometimes they can be a blessing.”

“If you could do that, it would be… appreciated,” Fenris said awkwardly, not quite sure how to express his gratitude. “Sleep, mage. We will talk more tomorrow.” 

It didn't take too long for Fenris to drift off, tired, his body relaxing into the mattress. 

Anders waited a little so he could subtly move closer without Fenris noticing. When he was able to feel the elf’s body heat, the healer closed his eyes with a satisfied sigh and let himself fall asleep as well.


	5. Of Cats And Cream

Anders was pleased with the schedule. 

Him and Fenris ironed out a few things with the arrangement between them and slowly fell into a comfortable rhythm. They met once every week for some fun, twice if one of them became restless. Also, every other day, they met for lessons. Fenris was working his way through his first letters, and Anders was broadening his Tevene vocabulary. 

About every other week, they decided to spice things up. One meeting was dedicated to more than just simple sex; it was the time to explore their hidden cravings, quirks and wild ideas. 

Anders was just heading over to the mansion for such an exciting event. Fenris, when having nothing better to do, did a little cleaning here and there and the mansion started to appear more and more habitable as the days passed by. Anders noticed a distinct lack of dessicated corpses in shady corners, and that was a huge improvement. 

His heart leapt as he entered to house, immediately heading for a little room that most probably belonged to a house slave at a point. When he discovered it, he took the time to clean the cobwebs and dust, dragged a small table, a chair and a clothes rack into it - which basically filled the room, it was that small - and declared it his dressing room. He felt a little more secure with his clothes and equipment at one place, and which wasn’t the bedroom. 

He couldn’t forget about Fenris’ proposal to be naked whenever he came for a purpose other than just education and as he stripped, Anders found himself squirming from delight. There was something decadent in being nude in front of a fully clothed person… Especially since that person happened to be Fenris. This was different than what he felt for Hawke. Possibly because Fenris wasn’t against the sex. 

Once he parted from his last piece of clothing, Anders cautiously walked out, a little self-conscious, but undeniably excited. The floor was swept, but the broken and missing tiles still poked at his soles. Anders endured, however. There was something much better waiting for him. 

“Fenris? Come and ravish me.”

Fenris heard the mage approaching and swore slightly. He hadn't realised the time and had got carried away with practicing his letters, which made his ears pink with embarrassment. He shoved the parchment and pencil into a drawer of the desk that he'd managed to drag into his bedroom from one of the studies. Fenris stood, poking his head around the door to see if he could sneak up on Anders. Deciding against it, he walked out, smirk in place. 

“You'll have to ask more nicely than that,” he said, eyes raking over Anders’ naked form.

Anders stopped, locked his hands behind his back and with an adorably bashful smile, he nodded. “Ah, yes. I’m sorry, I’m getting used to it. Ahem. Does the sight pleases my master? What should I do to earn the honors of him using me as he sees fit?” 

Frowning slightly for a moment, Fenris wondered whether to mention to discomfort at being called master, or the thrill that also came with it. He decided not to, too busy thinking of ways for Anders to ‘earn the honours’. 

“Kneel for me,” Fenris said, glancing at the floor for anything sharp or dangerous. “The sight does please me, but I prefer you ready to serve.”

Anders nodded and obediently kneeled, glancing up at Fenris with a glimmer in his eyes before he lowered his head like a good servant. “Is this better?” he inquired softly. “I live to serve my master. I’d like to make you happy, please.”

“Good boy,” Fenris said softly, coming over to stroke his fingers through Anders hair, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. “There's something I want to do today. You mentioned it a while ago. Do you trust me?”

Anders actually mulled that over, worrying his teeth over his lower lip, but finally he looked up and nodded. Fenris had never done anything to not inspire trust. He might have had some despicable opinions, but he was loyal, honest and self-consistent.

Fenris smiled, something like happiness sparking in his heart because Anders trusted him, despite their previous arguing. 

“Wait here, I won't be long, I promise,” the elf said before disappearing away, returning a minute later and setting a saucer of milk in front of Anders with a hesitant little smirk. “Come on then, kitten.”

The healer’s eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed a deep crimson as he glanced from the saucer to Fenris and back. “Give me a moment,” he whispered and slowly lowered himself on all fours. He rolled his shoulders, wiggled his hips and stretched a little, like a cat testing its limbs after a nap. Then he glanced up with a grin, let out a rather convincing meow and leaned down to finally lap at the milk. His ears were still tinged with crimson, but the earlier hesitation was fast disappearing from his movements and posture.

Fenris watched quietly, his eyes raking over Anders’ new position. There was something… satisfying about this. 

“Good boy,” he said, crouching down and stroking over Anders’ hair, curling it around his fingers slowly. 

Anders purred, again, rather convincingly and he pushed his head into Fenris’ hand. He didn’t leave the milk alone though; he quickly slurped it up, cleaned the plate with a few licks then moved closer for more petting.

Fenris chuckled softly, allowing both hands to trail over Anders’ hair, scratching at his scalp slowly. “Let's go to bed, kitten,” he said with a smirk. “Are you alright to crawl there?” he added quietly. 

Anders nodded and went ahead, possibly making a bit of a show if his swaying rear was any indication. He leapt on the bed, flopped down on his belly and sprawled to take up as much space as it was possible. Considering his long limbs, that was quite a lot of space. 

Slapping Anders’ backside, Fenris made him sit up with a hand in his hair, gripping tightly and pulling hard. 

“Do you want something to lick, kitten?” Fenris near growled into Anders’ ear, purposefully cupping the bulge in his leggings. 

Anders yowled indignantly and hissed at Fenris, pawing at him in an attempt to get free.

Fenris couldn't quite help his slight laugh but he released Anders anyway, kissing the top of his head briefly.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, soothing a hand over Anders’ hair.

“You can’t order around a cat,” Anders whispered. “You can’t force them to anything. I’m fine with force, but then let’s play ‘templar and mage apprentice’. If I’m a cat, then you have to coax me. Or let me decide.” He laughed quietly. “Why don’t you just go about your usual tasks? Practice your letters, clean your equipment, fetch dinner, wine, whatever… do some exercise? Trust me, your cat is bound to interfere.”

“Alright,” Fenris said, before he hesitated with an almost shy smile. “I, uh, got you something. I probably should have asked about this before I got it but… Impulse.”

Planting another kiss on Anders’ head, Fenris moved over to one of his chests where he kept his things, kneeling down to open it and get out a smaller wooden box, the clasp on it an elegant brass fitting. He came to sit down on the bed again, crossing his legs to rest the box on his knees. Opening it, Fenris drew out a plug - long and wide, but not too much - with a mockery of a cat’s tail attached to it. The fur was soft and well looked after, more likely to have come from a wild wolf than a real cat. 

Anders gasped. “Maker, you had this and you-- How long were you planning on hiding this? You stupid elf!” He promptly smooched Fenris on the lips. “I love it! Sweet Andraste, this must have cost you-- Aww, you’re doing so much for your kitty!” He affectionately nuzzled Fenris. “Why don’t you groom your kitty a little then? I wonder if they could do fake ears as well. And a velvet collar. But let’s just use what we have right now. You do have the oil I brought over the other time, right?”

Fenris relaxed when he realised Anders wasn't angry and grinned, laughing a little. “You're a demanding little kitten, aren't you? I'll keep an eye out for some collars. I'm glad you like it. Let me get the oil.” 

He stood again and returned a moment later with a new bottle of oil, lightly scented and smooth without being greasy. Fenris realised then that he should likely be embarrassed at how far he was going for something that was just sex but… This was important. 

Anders, in the meantime fell back into role; he sat cross-legged on the bed and proceeded to wash himself, licking at the back of his hand and rubbing it against his ear, totally ignoring Fenris. He seemed to enjoy himself quite a bit, and the act was certainly superbly executed.

The mixture of amusement and arousal was an odd one, but there was no doubt that Fenris was enjoying this too. He coated his fingers slowly, giving a slight show. 

“Bend over for me, kitten?” Fenris all but cooed. “You’ll get a lovely treat if you do.”

Anders perked up with a small, high-pitched and questioning noise - Fenris was sure that if he had been an elf, his ears would’ve twitched up, too. The healer got on all fours, stretched, then lowered his upper body, wiggling his butt. “Meow?” 

Lightly swatting Anders’ rear, Fenris teased his wet fingers around the mage’s rim, pushing the tip of one finger in briefly. “Good boy,” he said softly, before plunging one finger in to the knuckle in one smooth thrust. 

Anders’s eyes closed halfway and he moaned a little, fingers curling rhythmically into the bedding. He widened his stance and subtly moved against Fenris’ hand, encouraging him to go on. 

Fenris moved his finger in slow thrusts, stretching out Anders as quickly as he could without causing any pain. When he was ready, he pushed another finger in, circling them around to stretch Anders further, pressing down on his prostate firmly. 

It certainly evoked a nice response; Anders’ back arched and he mewled from pleasure, his penis starting to gather blood between his thighs. He turned his head to look at Fenris, lips open as he panted softly and he blinked slowly, sensually.

Fenris used his other hand to grip Anders’ cock, stroking him slowly. “Do you like this? I wonder if I could stretch you enough to fuck you with your tail in,” he mused slowly, his own length twitching as it hardened in his leggings. “For now I'll have to content myself with just this, won't I?”

“Oh shit…” Anders couldn’t swallow the comment back. “Don’t do this to me. Don’t give me ideas.” His erection reached its full size quickly, and Anders whined a little. “Treat? Please, master?”

“Soon, pet,” Fenris promised. “Let me finish stretching you and then I can put your tail in.”

Fenris squeezed Anders’ cock slightly and focused on opening him up enough for a third finger before he removed them and oiled the plug, teasing it over Anders’ entrance slowly. 

“Why must you be so cruel?” Anders lamented, hips swaying restlessly. “Was I not a good kitty?” He struggled up on his elbows to stare at Fenris, with big eyes and a quivering lip. “Did I disappoint my master? I was a bad kitty, right? And now you’re punishing me!” He dropped his head on his arms and meowed pathetically. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry...!”

Fenris stopped and set down the plug, shushing Anders softly as he ran his hands over the mage’s pale skin comfortingly. “You’ve been very good. You’re such a good boy, I just want to make sure that I don’t hurt you, okay? You’ve not disappointed me, I promise. I’m not punishing you. Okay? You’re a good kitty,” he soothed, touching everywhere he could reach, scratching behind Anders’ ears too. 

“He who owns a cat, shall prepare for melodrama,” Anders murmured with a grin, but he did move into the caress eagerly. “You’re so kind, master, but I’ll be okay, really! I can take it! Please, make me a proper kitty! I want to be pretty for you. And then we can play later. I like to play with you.” Anders nuzzled Fenris eagerly. “Please go on.”

Fenris smiled and picked up the plug again, making sure it was still oiled enough. He began to push it into Anders’ slowly, the width of it holding him open. The sight of the tail hanging from Anders was oddly arousing, the feeling of it against his skin soft and teasing. 

“Do you like that?” Fenris asked, continuing to run his hands over Anders’ skin. 

‘Yess,” Anders hissed, biting his lower lip. “It’s so big, it feels so good, I want all of it! I’m not made of glass… Also, remember, we have safewords for a reason.” He winked at Fenris and rolled his shoulders. “Now finish the job and let me play with my tail.”

Fenris chuckled softly and leaned down to lightly scrape his teeth up the length of Anders’ spine until he reached his neck, where he sucked a mark. He stroked Anders’ length one last time before he sat back. 

“All done, kitten,” Fenris purred slightly. “You can play all you like now.”

Anders eagerly got on all fours and pranced around on the bed, enjoying the steady pressure inside and the soft fur brushing against the back of his thighs. His expression spoke volumes; he was enjoying every moment of this. When he settled down though, his eyes widened. Apparently the plug got into a really good position because Anders closed his eyes and wiggled his hips with a few delighted little mewls. Shifting a bit, he took the tail and began playing with it, brushing it against his skin. Fenris was all but forgotten; Anders was simply paying attention to himself and his own pleasure, sometimes brushing a hand, or the tail itself against his erection, hips barely ever resting. He seemed to be getting close to the peak but he didn’t cross the line. Instead, he laid down on the bed and tugged the covers over himself. “Kitty needs a nap,” he declared and he buried his face into the pillow.

Fenris enjoyed watching the display, and blinked in surprise when Anders spoke. He laughed softly and leaned down to kiss the top of Anders’ head. 

“I'll be at the desk,” Fenris said, going over and continuing to practice his letters in slow even strokes of his pencil. 

A comfortable, soft silence settled over the mansion. Anders seemed quite content under the covers. Once or twice, when Fenris threw a quick glance at him, he could see subtle movement under the blanket, and his keen ears picked up the sound of deep breaths.

Fenris held back the satisfaction in his heart and the happiness that settled in his chest. There was something about the knowledge that he was caring for Anders that filled him with pleasure. He pushed the feeling aside and tried to focus on the letters that he'd been practicing from Anders’ own copy that he'd written down in their last lesson. 

Halfway through the sheet, Anders decided that Fenris needed to be bothered, so he slipped out of bed, crawled to the elf and rubbed his face against the leather-clad thigh with loud purring.

Fenris blinked in surprise and grinned, stroking his hand through Anders’ hair. “Good boy. Did you have a nice little nap?” 

“Mmyeah.” Anders pushed his head into the caressing hand and pulled his tail over his lap, the movement drawing attention to his erection. “Your bed is so nice.” He kneeled up, resting his forearms on Fenris’ thighs and blinked up at the elf. “What are you doing?”

Fenris trailed his fingers over Anders’ skin again, reaching down to stroke along his erection once. “I'm practicing the writing that you told me to. Are you enjoying your pretty tail? It's so soft, isn’t it?” He took hold of the tail and tugged on it carefully to pull at Anders’ rim. 

The light tug wrought a small moan from the healer, as well as the touch on his eager flesh. “Yess,” He hissed with delight, his head bumping against Fenris’ chest. “It feels nice against my skin. It reminds me of how nice a master you are.” He blinked slowly at the elf. “Kiss?”

Fenris obliged Anders, leaning down to kiss him softly but firmly, keeping hold of his tail in one hand and the other coming up to cup his cheek. “I am a very kind master, aren't I?” he asked with a slight purr in his voice, the word growing on him, he had to admit. “Why don't you show me how much you appreciate my kindness, kitten?”

“Mrrowr.” Anders pushed himself up, his hands on Fenris’ thigh still and after a loud purr, he began to nuzzle the elf around his pointy ear, kissing and licking at the dark skin.

Fenris bit his lip slightly, tilting his head slightly to give Anders more space. One of his hands slowly laid itself over Anders’, their fingers intertwining almost subconsciously. His other hand came up to curl through blonde hair, holding it loosely. 

“You like that? Anders inquired smugly between two licks. “You smell so nice. And you taste nice, too.” He slid into Fenris’ lap and began to nip at his lips. “You don’t know anything about cats. You have no idea how to treat them. And you have no idea how this game should go, but I guess that’s partially my fault. It’s not that I’m not enjoying myself. The tail is beyond excellent.”

“I thought you'd appreciate that,” Fenris said with a small smirk, reaching around to tug on it slightly, his fingers circling around Anders’ rim. “I've never had a cat. Never stroked a cat, or played with one. I suppose you’ll just have to teach me, won't you?”

“Well.” Anders playfully licked at Fenris’ mouth. “If I’m a cat, I’m not the scruffy apostate. I’m your cat. The scruffy apostate is teaching you things, not me. I mean, I’m just a cat. A smart one, but a cat. The petting part, you got that down pat.” He ducked his head to nuzzle Fenris’ chin with a chuckle. “Do pet the kitty, but if he slinks away, leave it be. Trust me, he’ll return for more. Possibly at the worst time possible. Cats are troublemakers. They knock things over, sleep on your clothes and shed all over - I won’t do that, so consider yourself lucky. I think- you might want to punish your kitty if he does something wrong. You’re his master, after all. You can exercise your power. But a cat is a free spirit; it might lash out. Which would warrant a punishment. Oh dear. It’s such a beautiful circle, isn’t it?” Anders shook his head with a grin. “Bottom line is; don’t try to hurt the cat unless he earned it, and don’t force him to do a thing after he refused. Chances are, he’ll change his mind within sixty heartbeats, anyway.”

“I see,” Fenris remarked with a small smile as he leaned close to mouth at Anders’ throat. “You have been a very good kitty so far. I think you deserve a treat, little one. Would you like a treat?”

“Yay, treat!” Anders cheered, then cleared his throat. “Ahem. Meow, meow, you may give me a treat, human-- oid. But just present me with the opportunity…” he lowered his voice, “and I’ll ruin your mansion. Though I’m quite comfortable in your lap at the moment.”

Fenris couldn't help but laugh at Anders’ response. He put his hands behind Anders’ knees to pull him flush against his body, the position pushing the plug even harder into him. 

“I'm going to let you come, kitten,” Fenris said as his hand inched towards Anders’ cock. “Would you like to come? I wonder how long it would take you to get hard again...”

For a moment, Anders seemed… oddly confused. But it passed in a heartbeat; he shrugged and smiled, licked his lips seductively and wound his arms around Fenris’ shoulders. “That would depend on how skilled my dear master is. Please make me harder than diamonds and make me come all over you. I need to mark you somehow, anyway. Quite often. So others won’t lay their filthy paws on you.”

“Are all kittens as possessive as you?” Fenris chuckled as his fingers circled Anders’ cock and began to stroke him slowly. “You don’t want anyone else touching your Master, is that it? You want to keep him all to yourself? I suppose I could allow that...” he mused, as if there was any question on the matter. He hadn’t even considered having anyone except Anders. “Just relax, kitty. Let me make you feel good. If you keep behaving, your next treat will be having me inside you. Would you like that?” 

“Ooohh, I would very much like that!” Anders purred and began to lave Fenris’ ear with tiny quick sweeps of the tip of his tongue. “I like you inside. Just you and nobody else… Yes, us kitties are possessive.” He raked his fingers through the elf’s hair. “Mine, mine, mine, my master, my lovely, sweet, kind master.” He couldn’t really wiggle his rear in this position, but he tried anyway.

The emotions that welled up in Fenris after hearing Anders’ soft declarations were interesting, to say the least. Pride, happiness, lust, only a few among the array that assaulted him. Fenris purred at the feeling of Anders’ fingers in his hair and used his other hand to continue rubbing against Anders’ rim, stretched as it was around the plug. He wished he had the oil so he could begin opening the mage even further. 

Anders had other things in mind it seemed; he leaned back, propping his elbows up on the desk, giving Fenris quite a bit of room to continue. “My little tail first,” Anders purred, hardly able to keep back his laughter - he was actually decently long even if not thick. “Then you can play with my nice, long one.” 

Laughter was startled out of Fenris. “Maker, I can’t believe you just said that,” he chuckled softly. He stood with his hands under Anders’ thighs and set the mage on the desk, angling him so he could feel the pressure of the plug inside him. Fenris’ thumb circled the tip of Anders’ length before he began to stroke and play in earnest, kissing along Anders’ throat and collarbones, possessively marking wherever he could reach. 

Anders opened his mouth as he was lifted but all that came out was a strangled moan. His head tipped back and he weakly clawed at Fenris’ tunic, keening as he couldn’t decide whether to open his thighs as wide as they could go, or to squeeze the elf’s waist with them. His penis was back to full attention soon, weeping precome and twitching subtly in Fenris’ grip.

“F-- Master, please… Please, play with me more!” Anders begged breathlessly. “I’m a good kitty, I’ll behave, please…!”

Fenris shushed Anders softly, scraping his teeth over the mage’s earlobe slightly. “Hush, kitty, let Master look after you.” 

Squeezing the length of Anders’ cock slightly, Fenris sped up his movements, rolling his balls between the fingers of his spare hand, playing with them and pressing against Anders’ taint in an attempt to make him keen desperately again.

The tactics worked; Anders slammed his hands on the desk so he could push himself up, thighs quivering and the most beautiful, desperate sounds breaking forth of him. He was chewing on his lips; he was surely going to split them if he kept up like that. The pencil rolled off and fell to the ground and some paper crumpled with a satisfying noise as Anders’ fingers curled into a fist from a wave of pleasure.

Fenris surged forward to kiss Anders on the lips so he stopped chewing on them, pushing his tongue into the mage’s mouth to ravage him as his fist sped up a little more. 

“Fuck, I love the sounds you make,” Fenris growled against his mouth when he pulled away for a gasp of air before kissing him again, the hand playing with Anders’ balls coming up to fist in his hair instead, holding him close. 

“Glad-- to be of service,” Anders panted when Fenris let him breathe. “I’m getting close, please-- harder, please, let me come, I want to come, please...!” His skin was flushed from desire, eyes glazed. 

“Good boy, you’re such a good boy, come for me, kitty,” Fenris growled against his lips, nipping at his lower lip as he tightened his grip and pulled a tiny bit more on Anders’ hair. “Come for me when you’re ready, kitten, I want to see it.”

The thin body in his arms arched, pressing against his and Anders kept on whining and moaning shamelessly. After a couple more tugs, his long legs curled around Fenris’ and his hips jerked sharply as he finally reached completion. His seed drenched Fenris’ hand and Anders yelled with delight, his hand nearly slipping on a treacherous sheet of paper. 

Trying to catch his breath, Anders draped an arm around Fenris’ shoulder. “Was I a good kitty? Did I please you?”

Fenris licked his hand clean slowly, the taste of Anders on his tongue. “You were a very good kitty. Such a good boy,” Fenris said softly, pressing his erection against Anders as he trailed his fingertips along the mage’s bare thigh. “You did please me, very much. Although now I’m in a bit of a predicament.” He chuckled lowly as the hand in Anders’ hair loosened to rest between his shoulder blades instead. 

“You wanted to be inside me,” Anders whispered. “You wanted to play with my tail. Please master, let me make you happy. You made me so happy, so now it’s your turn.” He nuzzled Fenris playfully. “Put your tail in my butt. You’ll feel sooo good.”

“Shall I leave this in while I’m inside you?” Fenris asked, tugging on Anders’ fluffy tail slightly. “Shall I open you up enough to take me while this is still inside? Leave you open and desperate for more, make you _ache_? Do you want that, kitten?” 

Anders gulped. “Yes please,” he said meekly, “please fuck me while my tail is in.” He leaned closer to whisper into Fenris’ ear then. “If you can. You’ll need to lube me up really well and I can’t tell how good it will be for you - by all means, if it’s not good, stop. But it sounds exciting.”

“Alright,” Fenris said, swallowing hard. “I'm going to take you over to the bed and get you all wet and loose.” 

Fenris did exactly that, lifting Anders from the desk with his hands under the mage’s thighs and carrying him over to the bed, setting him down on the covers with a kiss. 

“Get on your front while I get the oil.”

Anders obeyed readily like a good pet. He pulled his tail over his back, out of the way, brushing his skin with the soft fur simply because he enjoyed the sensation. He was a little worried about the outcome of this particular experiment, as he never tried something like this before, but he knew it was possible, and he had his magic. If all else failed, he was prepared to service Fenris some other way. The elf gave really nice orgasms.

Fenris returned with the oil, sitting in between Anders’ legs, running his hands up and down Anders’ sides before leaning down to kiss along his shoulders, trying to make him relax. 

“Relax for me, kitten. Just let me make you feel good,” Fenris said softly. 

“Oh, I’m relaxing,” Anders smiled lazily. “I know you’ll be gentle. I’ll make sure to inform you just how relaxed I am. Just go on slow and I’ll be fine.”

“Good,” Fenris said, nuzzling against the back of Anders’ neck before he sat up to coat his fingers in oil, pressing his little finger in alongside the plug to stretch Anders enough to add a large finger instead. Leaning down to kiss his spine, Fenris mouth his way down to Anders’ rear, biting down on his cheek to leave a possessive mark. 

“Mmh.” Anders pulled his shoulders up a little. “Yes. You know I’m likely going to come again if you keep up? I’m such a whore. Absolutely insatiable when it comes to my behind.” He sighed. “Bite me, hit me, fuck me, it’s all good. Break me to pieces.”

Fenris chuckled lowly, deep in his throat as he bit at Anders’ other cheek. “Maybe I want you to come again. Maybe I want to keep going until you're exhausted and soaked in your own seed. My good little whore, aren't you? Such a slut, just for me…” Pushing another finger in, a little before Anders was open enough for it, Fenris slapped the mage’s backside, right over where he'd left one of the bites. 

As usually, the response was a satisfying noise, a small moan, and a deeper one immediately afterwards as Anders instinctively clenched his cheeks. He quickly willed himself to relax though. “Yes, master. Just for you… Maybe for your esteemed friends, if you feel like it. Please… can I play with myself while you open me up?”

“Because you asked so nicely, I'll let you,” Fenris said as he tugged slightly at the rim of Anders’ entrance. “Do you think Hawke would want to play with my dirty little kitty? Or would he prefer to watch? Isabela would want to touch, wouldn't she? Can't have her touching my things without asking though, can we?”

Anders actually blushed. It was visible as he turned on his side, pulling one leg up to give Fenris plenty of room to continue. Anders slipped a hand down to palm himself while he laid his head on his other arm, pondering about the question. “Lady Isabela wants to touch everything. She also takes the things she touches sometimes, but she couldn’t take me. I’d remain with you, master. Serah Hawke…” He ducked his head. “I- I don’t know. I think he’d enjoy both. He’s a good friend of yours. He wouldn’t do anything without permission.”

“He's a good friend of ours, isn't he?” Fenris remarked softly as he pushed another finger in alongside the plug, using his other hand to direct the movements of it so it rubbed against Anders’ prostate. “Anyone would love to see you begging for cock, though. You're so desperate and needy, you just want anything you can get, don't you?”

Those lovely keening whines broke forth of the healer again. “Y-yes, I’m so desperate, I’d let anyone use me if you permitted it! Oh M-master, please fuck me! Oil me up and enter me, please!” His hand was moving briskly between his legs, Anders was quickly getting onto the mood again. It looked like the Warden stamina wasn’t just a legend.

“Nearly there, kitty, nearly got you stretched enough. We can't take your tail out after all, how would we know you were a kitty then?” With a third finger pushing into Anders, Fenris thought he was ready enough. “Okay? Or do you need more?”

“I’m ready,” Anders panted. “I’m ready, please… I want to feel you, please fill me up, make me yours, mark me as yours…! Just-- add a generous amount of oil. Everything needs to be really slippery.”

Fenris’ cock was dripping with the amount of oil he put on it and he poured some over Anders’ entrance too, wanting to be completely sure he wouldn't hurt Anders. Positioning himself, Fenris began to push in slowly, holding the plug still and tilting it slightly to create a wider gap for his cock. 

Anders was oddly silent throughout the whole deal, though his body didn’t protest much save an occasional muscle contraction. When Fenris was about halfway in, the healer spoke up once. “Don’t stop, Give me all of it.” While his voice was strained, he didn’t seem to be in pain.

“You want my whole cock, kitty? You'll have to ask nicely,” Fenris purred against his ear as he plastered himself over Anders, every possible inch of skin pressed together. “Beg for me, little one. Be a good little boy and say _please_.”

Anders’ breath hitched. “Please--” he groaned softly. “Please Master, fill me up, put your whole cock into my hole, please…!” His hand crept to Fenris’ and covered it. “Please Master, I beg you, I need it so much! I want to feel you inside me!”

“You asked _so_ nicely that I think I'll give it to you. Say thank you to your kind Master,” Fenris said as he started to push in, turning his hand over under Anders to lace their fingers together. 

“Th-thank you, Master!” Anders moaned, his back arching. His fingers curled around Fenris’. “Oh it’s-- I’m so full, it’s incredible…” His free hand wormed its way to the front, so he could stroke himself.

“It's fortunate that you feel good around my cock, pet, or you'd be punished for assuming I'll let you touch yourself,” Fenris growled in Anders’ ear, scraping his teeth over the shell of it and nibbling on his lobe. 

“You won’t?” Anders whimpered, his hand stilling. “I’m-- sorry, Master. I was a bad kitty. Are you going to punish me?”

“Not this time,” Fenris soothed, “and I'll even let you continue. You've been such a good boy up until now, I'm sure you didn't do it on purpose.” 

Fully in to the base, Fenris had to take a moment to breathe with how good it felt to be in Anders alongside the metal plug, the material cool and hard against the underside of his cock. When he started to move, it was slow at first to ensure Anders wasn't in pain, and then faster once he was okay. 

Anders meowed with delight at the permission and continued teasing himself. His mouth hung open so he could pant and moan loudly, a brief yell breaking forth whenever a particularly well-aimed thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through his nerves. He was like clay underneath Fenris, pliant, obedient, warm, skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, the numerous birthmarks and old, faded wounds a little more visible on the pale expanse.

The scars all over Anders’ body were numerous, and the sight of them made Fenris angry. His mage had suffered at the hands of others and Fenris would protect him from further harm, especially if Anders was so willing to hand himself over. Quiet but breathing heavily, Fenris began to bite along the line of Anders’ shoulders and throat, adding more and more marks to the myriad he had already left. 

“ _Mine_ ,” Fenris growled lowly to Anders, punctuating the claim with a hard thrust. 

“Yours,” Anders choked. He practically offered himself to Fenris, for everything the lef wanted to do to him. “Yours forever, completely… I love you, Master. “He was moving into the thrusts and he was dripping, getting closer to a second peak.

Fenris hesitated briefly, but he played the surprised pause as teasing before picking up his previous rhythm. This was no place for love, not in this room or on this bed. He decided to focus on getting them both off first rather than dwelling on words spoken in the middle of pleasure. 

“I'm getting close, pet, are you going to come for me? Impaled on my cock and fucking your own fist,” he said, tugging at Anders’ earlobe again. 

“Yes, Master,” Anders whimpered, and his hand between his thighs sped up. “As you command. Please fuck me harder and I’ll come for you hard, I promise!”

Fenris paused for a moment to reposition, untangling their fingers and kneeling up so he could grip Anders’ hips, fucking him as hard and fast as his muscles would allow. He wanted to see if he could leave bruises on Anders’ ass. Grinding his teeth to stop from coming too soon, Fenris pulled Anders back onto his thrusts as he moved forward, getting as deep as possible. 

The healer couldn’t keep his voice down; he made the most beautiful noises, and his body moved restlessly, trembling, tensing form the onslaught of pleasure, and perhaps a little pain; but that didn’t seem to lessen the joy. Anders jerked himself just as hard and fast and soon, he seized up when the orgasm crashed down on him. His muscles spasmed and he screamed, eyes rolling back and his seed drenching the sheets.

The sound of Anders on the brink of pleasure echoed in Fenris’ ears and the hot clench of his entrance around his cock was enough to pull the orgasm from him, slamming in one last time and coming with a grunt and gritted teeth. 

“Good boy,” Fenris said after a few moments, stroking his fingers up and down Anders’ spine. 

His pet was a boneless heap underneath him, flushed and spent, breathing heavily. A few strands of his blond hair plastered to his face and his eyes were closed. He didn’t move, just breathed, his face smooth and serene, with the barest hint of sadness lingering there. So vulnerable, so perfect. 

Smoothing Anders’ hair away from his face, Fenris leaned down to kiss at Anders’ cheek and temple. 

“Have I broken you?” he asked, hesitant despite the soft chuckle in his voice. “I'm going to get a cloth to clean you up, I'll be back in a moment.”

Fenris went to get a warm damp washcloth to clean Anders, not wanting to remove the plug straight away. 

Anders just gurgled and didn’t move a finger until Fenris cleaned up the last trace of filth from his skin, letting the elf arrange his long limbs as needed. “Kinda?” Anders mumbled finally. “‘T was good. Reeeally good. Much orgasm. Uh-- was it okay, with the plug inside? Wasn’t it too hard?” 

“It was good,” Fenris said, kissing Anders’ spine before reaching for the plug. “I'm going to take it out now, okay? You can always have it back another time. It let me keep pressure on your prostate while I fucked you, so it was very good. Bet you're stretched wide now, though.”

“So loose you can put a fist in my ass,” Anders agreed, sprawling out on his belly with a satisfied smile. “I love it. Sure you want to put up with me any longer? I mean. I’m such a whore. Speaking about fists though-- that thing you do? I’m kinda intrigued.” 

Fenris raised an eyebrow as he lay down beside Anders, on his side to face him. “Intrigued how…? As for putting up with you, I do believe that everything we did was decided on by both of us. You're not a whore, even if I called you one. Even if you were, I'm sure I could force myself to put up with you,” he teased with a small grin. 

“That just proves it,” Anders pointed out, wiggling closer. “I let you do anything you want to me and I don’t even ask for money! Eh, whatever. I enjoy every moment of these sessions. Though maybe you’d want to work on your magisterial manners. I was giving you all these hints and you didn’t use any of them!” He reached out to stroke Fenris’ hair. “A role game is supposed to be very immersive. You should feel the role, really fit into it, and let the other do the same. It plays out really well if you can do that.”

“I… would rather not,” Fenris admitted stiffly after a moment’s hesitation. “I feel… It's just…” Fenris scowled at his own incompetence and rolled onto his back to glare at the ceiling. “I enjoyed this, thank you. Feel free to stay the night; I would rather you stayed so I knew you were safe.”

“Hmmh.” Anders’s brows furrowed briefly, then he moved even closer and tugged the covers over them before laying down next to Fenris and slipping his hand to the elf’s toned stomach to rub it in soothing circles. “It’s a learning curve, I guess,” Anders murmured. “You’re figuring things out. What you like, what you don’t. Just don’t let the mistakes weigh you down. You can try again. Like with the letters.” He snickered. “I think I effectively destroyed most of your practice. I’ll make you a new sheet later. Oh, and- the fisting.” He dipped a fingertip into Fenris’ navel. “I’ve wondered a few times how it feels for people when you phase your hand into them. I mean, without the ripping up their innards part.”

Fenris chuckled and took Anders’ hand in his, lifting it to kiss the back of it. Activating the lyrium in his fingertips, he dipped them beneath Anders’ skin in his hand one by one. “Perhaps next time.”

Anders flinched and his fingers twitched, but he left his hand in Fenris’. “I-- didn’t mean it right now-- Oh, it-- doesn’t hurt and--” His eyes lit up with blue fire and his voice gained echoes. “It’s like your body is singing a song. You brush against the Fade, its power flowing through you but instead of a river, it’s like ripples in a pond. It is unique and marvelous.” 

Fenris stiffened and pulled his fingers back, letting his lyrium lie still again. “Anders, please keep your spirit under control,” he said, fear creeping into his voice despite the tight control he kept over his emotions, reigning them in. 

Anders made a small noise, but his skin lit up with glowing veins, a sure sign that Justice took over. “Do not be afraid, Fugitive,” the spirit rumbled, his normally authoritative voice a rough purr now. “I do not wish to harm you. I’m merely offering my compliments. I’m-- fond of your markings and I have to admit that you’re treating Anders very well. Even though I cannot comprehend these degrading acts, he is at ease in your presence. You mortals are such curious creatures.”

Fenris got out of bed and stood, running a hand through his hair, not comfortable with remaining defenseless while a Fade spirit lie beside him. 

“Fond of my markings? Because of the lyrium? Danarius’ demons used to be incredibly fond of them,” he snapped, unable to stop himself, using his words as armour when his was on the stand. 

“I’d imagine,” Justice growled, languidly pulling himself up to sit. “Creatures of the Fade are drawn to lyrium due to its power; and in the physical world, it sings. Mortals cannot hear it, but I can.” His blue eyes were fixed on Fenris, tracking every minute twitch. “You are a walking symphony though I do admit, there’s an echo of pain beneath. Yours is a sad song and you’re too used to singing it. You’re struggling to find new words, new harmonies, but the more you find, the more dissonant the song becomes. Your bravery lifts you up but your fear drags you down.”

Fenris watched Justice silently for a few moments, trying to judge the spirit’s intentions. Hesitantly, near reluctantly, he sat down on the edge of the bed. “I am finding my own way in the world. I will not belong to anyone else again, especially not another mage.”

Justice tilted his head up sharply with a short growl, but it dissipated into a purr and he relaxed. “There are many kind of chains, forged from many different materials, Fugitive. Some are thick, some so thin they’re almost unseen. Some are placed on us, others we tie on ourselves from our free will.” With deliberate slowness, he extended his hand toward Fenris, palm up. “You need to learn to recognize which is which.”

Fenris’ eyes narrowed slightly at the gesture. He reminded himself that in there somewhere was Anders, and he just had to hope that if the spirit had ill intentions, Anders would stop him. He reached out slowly, like a deer ready to bolt. 

“I want to make you see,” Justice murmured. “But trust builds over time.” Their hands met and the spirit’s fingers only applied the faintest pressure on Fenris’. “Felines and uncertain scribbles on parchment,” Justice mused. “You’re not doing too badly, Fugitive.”

In the next moment, the blue light was gone, and there was a wide-eyed Anders in Justice’s place, holding Fenris’ hand.

Fenris relaxed as soon as the blue disappeared, his shoulders sagging slightly. He released Anders hand and moved back to lay in bed again, lifting up his arm and the covers to offer a cuddle to Anders. _Not_ a cuddle. More… A friendly… something. But it was most definitely _not_ a cuddle. 

On his part, Anders seemed satisfied with it. 


	6. Still Waters

The trip to Wounded Coast had been a quick one, something they were all grateful for. The bandits harassing travelers just marched up to Hawke’s party, to demand their valuables. Their asses were handed to them instead in a rather swift fashion. They were all dragged back to Kirkwall, much to Aveline’s delight and Hawke disbanded the party a little after midday, calling the job done.

The downside of the otherwise successful excursion was the torrential rain that soaked everyone to the skin and due to the condition of the roads, had them covered in mud up to their ears. Hawke and Isabela immediately headed for the Amell estate, while Anders implored to Fenris, so he could utilize the other mansion’s facilities. Not to mention the pantry. 

They ended up shedding their soaked clothes and huddled close to the fireplace wrapped in blankets, sipping tea Anders boiled with a little magic and picking cold meat, cheese and yesterday’s bread.

Once their teeth stopped to chatter, Anders made a suggestion. “How about we go up and you show me around your luxurious bathroom? I think we could both use some hot water.”

“Is that an excuse so you can take advantage of me in the bath?” Fenris asked with a crooked grin as he sipped on his tea and grabbed a bit more cheese. “If so, you’ll have to be quite persuasive after the day we’ve had.”

After eating a little more, Fenris stood and held his hands out to Anders to help him up. 

“Come on,” the elf said. “Let’s go and have a bath.”

“Onward to advantage taking!” Anders laughed. “I can be very persuasive if I put my mind to it. First, I’d like to warm myself up though and soak the mud out of my hair. Then, if you’re brave enough…” He leaned closer to Fenris, wiggling a brow, “I can show you all of those tricks I’ve learned back at the Circle. Us poor oppressed mages had our fun where we could find it, you know.”

Fenris rolled his eyes and headed for the bathroom, Anders’ hand still in his. He kept the blanket around him as tightly as he could, the cold of the mansion nipping at his skin where it was bare. He released Anders to kneel beside the taps, turning them and activating the heating rune. Tevinter plumbing - likely stolen from the ancient elves to begin with - was one of the only things that Fenris missed about the country.

“It’ll take a while for the tub to fill up,” Anders pondered, settling down on the bench next to the wall. “But we can probably spend the time valuably. You don’t like the cold, do you? Would you like to share some body heat, purely for survival?” He opened his own blanket, inviting Fenris closer.

“For survival,” Fenris agreed, lips quirking in amusement. “I might die in this cold otherwise. You’re saving me from certain death.” Coming to sit beside Anders, Fenris sat beside him and pulled the mage into his lap, wrapping his blanket around the two of them. “You’re mine now, mage. There’s no escape.”

“I’m torn between submitting and fighting for my freedom,” Anders lamented. “It’s about time for our special meeting anyway, isn’t it? I’d really like to try a few things. Do you recall what I’ve mentioned before? A lot of my ideas involve magic, and I want to make sure you’ll be alright.”

Fenris thought about it for a moment. “I trust you,” he said slowly, before adding with a small smile, “Against my better judgement, of course. But… I trust you. I know you’ll stop if I’m not okay. Before we do anything though, I would like some idea of what I’m agreeing to.”

“Well…” Anders smirked, combing Fenris’ still-damp hair gently with his long fingers. “Have you ever-- wait, first things first. I want to assure you that I am absolutely not going to use blood magic, even if the effects look like it. Blood magic can alter the body, but so can creation magic and I’m sticking to the latter. That said, have you ever played with the idea of… being feminine, or actually a female?”

Eyebrows shooting up in surprise, Fenris looked at Anders like he was insane. “Of course not.” He leaned into the fingers stroking through his hair anyway. “You want to turn me into a female? As in, everything that that entails? Why?”

“No, no, no, nothing like that,” Anders held his hands up. “Then again, there was this friend of mine, Claudia-- not that she ever managed to get the job fully done. Anyway. I-- Oh dear, you really don’t remember.” He kissed Fenris’ forehead. “When I was a boy, just coming of age, I used to share the wildest ideas with my friends. Poor Karl was always worried I’ll end up doing something dangerous and hurt myself. Teenage boys have the weirdest minds, I can tell you. We were really interested in breasts and what was under the robes of the girls, and imagining what would it be like to have them was quite thrilling. I mean, if you had breasts, you could fondle them while masturbating without having to persuade someone else first, risking their ire. Also, here’s a thing about Circles. When you reach a certain age, especially if you have older friends, or a fun enough teacher, you’ll start to find notes here and there, slipped into books. They contain little spells or directions to a certain book in the library, which has another note inside it… There is no book on sex magic, but there are spells and they’re passed down from generations to generations. And Kinloch was an especially kinky branch of the family.”

“So you want to give one of us breasts, is that what you’re saying?” Fenris asked, bemused more than anything else. “I suppose I can agree to that as long as you know how to reverse the effects.” Leaning close to rub their noses together slightly, Fenris teased a kiss, pulling away just before their lips could touch. He grinned and planted one on him anyway. “You are strange, you know? In a good way though.”

Anders stuck the tip of his tongue out, chuckling sheepishly. “Ah, well. Alright, I admit I tried dressing up as a girl before, and it wasn’t an unpleasant experience. I can dispel any of my magic in a heartbeat though, and these types of spells were not meant to last, anyway. Men generally like their dicks, and don’t want to become women. With notable exceptions of course. The thought just occured to me because… The other day, I was thinking about what a beautiful body you have.” Anders flushed a little bit at the confession. “You’re short and while you’re really strong, you don’t have much visible muscle. You’re so slender. If you had wider hips and some boobs, you’d make a pretty woman.”

“I’m not sure whether to be flattered or slightly disturbed that you’ve been thinking about that,” Fenris admitted, although he did smile anyway and kiss Anders again. “What do you want then? Precisely, what do you need me to do? I can fuck you every way I know until the morning, or we can do something else involving your… interesting ideas.”

“I was mainly thinking about setting the mood with my ridiculous fantasies,” Anders replied innocently, trailing his hands up and down over Fenris’ sides. “Then, as promised, you can bend me over the edge of the tub and do me in the butt. I can show you how to tuck your dick; if you do it right, you will look like a girl. Also...I could perhaps show you what it is like to have skin that covers the head of your cock.” 

“I like the idea of sliding my cock between your tits,” Fenris admitted reluctantly, hands coming up to brush his thumbs over Anders’ nipples. “But the rest sounds good too. I bet you'd be fucking gorgeous in a dress, or a corset. Shall I get you one? Maybe we could find one that would match your pretty tail.”

“You’re doing it again!” Anders wailed. “You’re giving me ideas! But, very conveniently, a tailor is indebted to me; we can ask her to make the dress, or alter one, we’ll just say I lost a bet, and you can still pay her, but I’m starting to feel uncomfortable about the money you blow on me.” He nibbled on Fenris’ lips. “Don’t get me wrong, it feels nice. But I don’t want you to spend your hard-earned coin on toys and stuff instead of food or… whatever other personal expenses you have.” He trailed his hand down over Fenris’ front. “I’ll definitely see to the breasts. I’m going to be your pretty escort… maybe you should get yourself some fancy coat, too.”

Fenris hummed softly, running his hands everywhere he could reach. “You shouldn't feel bad about me buying you things. Danarius left a lot of what I consider junk behind. Some of it was worth a lot of money so I sold it. Plus, if I didn't want to buy you something, I wouldn't buy it. The only things I buy for myself are food and stuff to keep my sword and armour working properly. I like buying you things.”

“You just like buying things, and you wouldn’t buy anything for yourself,” Anders pointed out gently. “However, I think I’m done complaining.” He wound his arms around Fenris’ neck and began to kiss him lazily, with a lot of tongue.

Fenris kissed him back immediately, reaching out to meet Anders’ tongue with his own. He sucked on the wet muscle and nipped his lip, pulling him closer and cupping his rear, squeezing his cheeks. Fenris let one hand slide into the blond hair that he so loved, holding Anders close. 

This commenced for a while, blankets eventually slipping off, but neither of them noticed; the air seemed a lot less chilly by then. The slow foreplay got them into the right mood - not to the point of unbearable need, but both of them were half-erect by the time the tub filled up and the pair reluctantly disentangled. Fenris turned the taps and Anders located the soap he himself brought over earlier. He didn’t hesitate climbing into the blissfully hot water, placing the faintly scented bar on the low stool nearby. The tub was large enough for two persons, so he stretched out his legs and attempted to pull Fenris between them.

Grinning, Fenris settled between Anders’ legs happily, kissing him again and running his fingers over Anders’ erection lightly. “Let me wash your hair?” Fenris murmured against his lips, kissing him repeatedly. 

“Aww, you’re such a darling,” Anders cooed. “You’re going to spoil me. Not that it requires much effort, I love luxury. You can wash my hair, but then let me wash you. Yes, I’d like an excuse to put my hand all over you, but so far, you’ve been the-- active one during our little get-togethers and a little variety wouldn't hurt.”

Fenris hummed in agreement and kissed Anders one last time before moving to sit and pulling Anders into his lap, the mage’s back against his chest. He got the shampoo and poured some into his hands, lathering it up before he began to massage it into Anders’ hair and scalp, rubbing in slow circles with his fingertips.

The healer simply relaxed into the gentle care, humming to himself. He was indeed enjoying the luxury, eyes closed and a small smile playing about his lips. “You’re good at this,” he remarked after a little while. “Can’t say I had the opportunity to try a service like this more than a couple of times but it’s really soothing.”

“A ‘service’, hm?” Fenris asked, humour playing in his voice. “Are you using me, mage? For my body and my hands? I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” The last words were sincere and Fenris would have kissed Anders shoulder if there wasn’t shampoo and bubbles dripping over them. 

“Come on, don’t make jokes like that,” Anders frowned a little though not moving an inch. “You’re not my slave and I know you don’t want to-- what’s the right word here. Associate--? Aside than having this deal. “I’m still surprised you agreed to it.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Fenris said, kissing Anders’ throat despite the soap. “I know your spirit wouldn’t allow it anyway. Who said I didn’t want to associate with you outside of our arrangement?” Curiosity surged within Fenris, intrigued as to why Anders thought that.

“That little voice inside my head called logic…?” Anders squinted up, confused. “I’m a mage. You don’t like mages. You think I’m annoying, obnoxious, possessed, delusional… you’re afraid of me. It’s a small miracle you trust me at all.” He looked away. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate your displays of affection, but sometimes you make it look like you’d be in love with me and-- I mean, it’s nice. Even if it’s just a game. Especially if it’s just a game, I’m used to that. But we shouldn’t even consider getting involved more deeply. That’d hurt us both.”

Fenris was quiet for a few moments as he carefully considered his response. “I do not mean to toy with your emotions, Anders,” he started quietly. “I am not afraid of you, I’m afraid of the power you have at your disposal, it’s different. It’s just… I can’t help myself with you. I enjoy touching you. I enjoy kissing you. I… enjoy keeping you safe, even if it’s just keeping you safe from starving yourself by working too hard. What would you propose instead?”

Anders pressed his hands against his face. “I don’t know! Do you think I have an idea about what love is? I know what sex is, good sex, bad sex, sex that is good but leaves you with a lot of regrets. Sometimes I’m not even sure I was in love with Hawke.” The tips of his ears started to glow crimson. “I wanted him so bad. I wanted him to fuck me and I wanted him to need me, I wanted to be able to run to him any time and hide in his arms and I think I’m just going to drown myself right now.” He sank under the surface, leaving a sizable cloud of lather on top of the water.

Fenris huffed a soft laugh and pulled Anders back above the water, lifting him easily to set him on the side of the bath, pinning him there by leaning on his thighs. “You are mine, mage,” Fenris said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “For as long as you wish to be, you are mine. You can come here whenever you wish, whether for sex or just for a proper bed to sleep in, you can find it here. We don’t have to name what we have, it can just… be.”

“That sounds acceptable,” Anders nodded, wiping water off his face. “Less thinking sounds good altogether. So.” He smoothed his hair back, squeezing the water out if it. “We should resume cleaning each other up and let it take us wherever.”

Pulling Anders back into the water, Fenris smiled. “That sounds good to me. Your hair is clean now, at least. Is it my turn to be cleaned? I do like your hands.”

“That’s a good thing, I’m proud of them,” Anders grinned and fetched the soap. “Come, stand up. I’m going to make you _really slippery_.” His grin broadened.

Fenris rolled his eyes but stood nonetheless. “Fool mage,” he said affectionately. “Come on then, get me nice and clean. Usually you just get me all messy so I think we should change that for once. Once you’ve got me all slippery, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, whenever you’re concerned, my plans tend to go down the drain.” Anders stood as well and began to soap Fenris up generously. I’m not going to think ahead. I do get you dirty a lot so I guess this is a duty.” He dragged the soap over Fenris’ ass and thighs once then began to rub the elf down, starting at the shoulders. Now and then, Anders pressed down more firmly, massaging tight muscles, other times, he lingered over sensitive spots. He even had the nerve to slip two fingers between the two half-globes of Fenris’ rear, briefly rubbing his entrance, then he pressed himself against the elf’s back and began to sensually caress the toned stomach. The soap eased the motion and Anders nuzzled Fenris’ ear. His hands framed the elf’s penis, slipping down, caressing, enticing. 

Fenris wanted to spank Anders for his boldness, but the touch to his entrance, despite initially tensing, sent tendrils of arousal through him, making him sigh softly. The teasing touches to his skin made him gasp quietly; he wanted to demand a proper touch, but he left this up to Anders despite the usual nature of their arrangement. 

“Anders...” Fenris sighed softly, spine arching slightly. 

“I honestly don’t know what to do with you,” Anders murmured, nuzzling and nipping Fenris’ ear. “Would you like to come? I can arrange that, if you promise not to fall asleep afterwards.” He chuckled and cupped Fenris’ balls, his other hand closing around the steadily hardening penis. 

“If you make me come, I’ll return the favour however you want,” Fenris murmured, arching into the touch, his cock twitching at the hand around it. “Do you want me to rim you until you come, pet? Or shall I finger you slowly, pressing on your prostate any chance I get?”

“Why do I put up with you…?” Anders mused as he stroked Fenris to fullness. “Ah, yes, something about your willingness to put your tongue into my ass. A powerful negotiation factor.” He gently pushed the elf down into the tub. “Let’s wash the soap off quickly, and then I’ll show you something. I’m sure you’ll reward my efforts most generously.”

“More arguments could be won worldwide if people were just happy to properly satisfy their partners,” Fenris chuckled, kissing Anders’ hungrily, desperately, and wanting more. 

“That as profound,” Anders nodded sagely. He quickly poured a few handfuls of water over Fenris, ridding him of the lather then pulled him to stand again. “Now, leave a bit of distance between us and put your hands on my shoulder, just in case.” Anders took himself in hand and flicked his wrist. “You can watch, I think you wanted to.”

Fenris couldn't hold back his growl, eyes darkening at the sight of Anders taking himself in hand. 

“I'll hold you up if you play with your balls too. I want to see you pleasure yourself,” Fenris said deeply, hands coming up to rest on Anders’ shoulders. 

Anders considered the order and couldn’t see a reason to deny it. He slowed down, to the lazy, sensual pace he normally employed when pampering himself. His fingers danced, teased, both his shaft and his testicles. The slow pleasure made him moan and sigh, teeth worrying over his lower lip, eyes fluttering close.

“That's it… Good boy,” Fenris growled. “You're so beautiful like that, keep going. Let me watch you come. Who do you belong to, mage?”

Fenris’ thumbs and fingers pressed and massaged Anders’ muscles slowly, trying to get him to relax even further. 

“I’d say I loved how you always seem to miss a point, but I’d be lying,” Anders smiled with infuriating smugness. “It’s getting a little annoying. Guess what, the pretty elf’s not calling the shots right now. I’m not in the belonging mood today.”

Fenris grinned and leaned close to simply kiss Anders, no demand or dominance in the kiss as he ran his thumb over Anders’ nipple. “Pretty, is it?” Sitting back to continue watching, Fenris brought his hand to his own cock to stroke himself slowly, in time to Anders’ languid movements. 

“If you prefer handsome and sculpted, I can go for that too, ‘pretty’ was just the first thing to come to mind,” Anders shrugged. “Now let me do what I want without throwing any more brilliant ideas in.” He gently batted Fenris’ hand away and aligned both their erections so the tips were touching. “Now just look at that,” Anders murmured. “Aren’t they cute, all flushed and kissing eagerly?”

Fenris rolled his eyes at Anders’ words despite the way his breathing picked up and became shaky. “Adorable,” Fenris muttered, unable to draw his eyes away from where their cocks were pressed together, the feeling sending tremors of pleasure through his muscles. 

Anders carefully rubbed the heads together, smearing precome over the darkened skin, then slowly pushed his own foreskin forward, until it covered part of Fenris’ penis as well. His other hand went for the elf’s swollen testicles and began to massage them. “I bet this is new,” Anders grinned, studying Fenris’ face curiously.

Fenris’ whole body jerked like he’d been struck by lightning and his hands came up to grab Anders’ back, fingers bluntly digging into his skin. “F-Fuck,” the elf gasped breathlessly. “Keep going, don’t stop.” There were no words that could adequately describe how Fenris felt, or the pleasure that was coursing through his veins. “Don’t stop...”

“Aww!” Anders laughed, but he nuzzled Fenris affectionately and his hands didn’t still for a moment. “It’s always you who breaks me apart, it certainly feels good to reverse the roles! You look so lovely when pleasure overwhelms you. Uh- Hey. I’m going to use a tiny spell. It’s really weak, but if it hurts, tell me, okay?”

Fenris was so busy focusing on the pleasure and clutching to Anders that he merely nodded without letting the words properly sink in. Even once they had, he found that he didn’t care at all and nodded again. The feeling of magic against his skin made him moan softly where he buried his face against Anders’ throat, pulling him closer and rocking into his touch with soft little abortive thrusts. 

The legacy of Kinloch Hold was definitely a bliss. Now with things firmly secured, Anders could concentrate on the pleasure as well. He continued to fondle Fenris, and his now free hand began to roam over the elf’s body, tipping his head up to sneak a tongue into Fenris’ mouth. During the kiss, Anders tugged Fenris’ hand down so the elf could help bring him off. “We should try to come together,” Anders breathed. “That’s really good. So tell me if you’re getting close.”

Fenris nodded as he wrapped his hand around their dicks, stroking along both of them slowly, twisting his wrist when he got to where they were joined, swearing under his breath as he moaned. He pushed his tongue into Anders’ mouth, sucking on the mage’s tongue slightly to encourage him into a deeper kiss. 

“Anders...” Fenris breathed softly, eyes hooded and desperate. 

“So beautiful…” Anders moaned. “Just by looking at you-- L-let’s finish this. Oh shit, Fenris… it’s so good...!” His hand joined the elf’s, urging them both along to completion.

“Shit, I’m close,” Fenris groaned, the light of his lyrium flickering uncontrollably, the pleasure near overwhelming as he reached for Anders’ balls, squeezing slightly before reaching around to stroke teasingly over Anders’ entrance. “Come on, mage, come for me, make me come. Just-- Fuck… I’m almost there, please--”

Anders gasped and just simply stopped holding back. He squeezed Fenris gently and moaned shamelessly. “I’m coming--!” Timing it was mostly the question of luck, but in the final moment, it ceased to be a concern; as the orgasm rippled through him, Anders closed his eyes and let his head roll back. “Fenris--!”

The feeling of Anders coming right against the tip of his own cock was enough to set Fenris off, letting out a strangled cry as he came too, hips jerking and lyrium flashing brightly. Resting his head on Anders’ shoulder, Fenris panted heavily against his skin.

The healer merely smiled, face free of the usual stress lines; the post-coital briss practically made him glow. He held Fenris close, stroking his hair and nuzzling him until the pink cloud lifted off them. “Look down,” he whispered them and removed the seal; they slipped apart, their combined essence trickling into the water. “That’s a lot, isn’t it?” Anders chuckled. “Combined effort and all that.”

Fenris swore again and pulled Anders against him, kissing him hard. Watching their mixed seed drip from where they were joined made his cock twitch in a valiant but futile attempt to harden again. “I think the water would make us more dirty than clean now,” Fenris said with a small grin. “Stay the night?”

“I would, but it’s the middle of the afternoon; we should do something until then,” Anders laughed. “Watch me. More magic is coming up.” He leaned down, submerging both his hands, concentrated and with a brief ripple of power, everything unsavory vanished - dirt, soap and everything else aside clean, hot water was gone. Anders put a hand on his waist. “Probably that’s why we’re locked up. Too damn useful for the masses to benefit from us.” He took Fenris’ hand. “Let’s soak a while longer. I have a few more tricks up my sleeves.” 

“I think we deserve the rest of the day off after the kind of week we've had,” Fenris chuckled, sitting down and stretching out in the bath, holding his arms out for Anders to cuddle against him in the water. “We could find something to do - beyond each other - if you're so desperate to do something.” Fenris grinned at his own joke. 

“Studying is always an option,” Anders nodded, settling back comfortably. “You could come down to my clinic. Part of the reason I so want to learn Tevene is that some books pass through my hands - old books, found by scavengers down underneath Kirkwall. Most of them are in some language I can’t understand. Possibly Ancient Tevene, but I’d like to be able to at least determine what they’re about. We can also discuss some ideas for future use. Me being a pretty girl sounds rather exciting.” He batted his eyelashes.

“We can discuss that while we’re bathing,” Fenris said, nuzzling against Anders’ neck happily. “Shall I get you a dress and some lacy smalls? Bet they'd look good on you.”

“The trick is that they have to be a tight fit,” Anders explained like it was a lecture on important magical know-how in a Circle. “Let me show you. Give me a bit of space.” He gently pushed Fenris away then exhaled, his hands obviously busy doing something underwater - especially if the giggle was any indication. A bit more wiggling and Anders rose like a water nymph, skin pink from the heat and between his long thighs-- something seemed to be missing.

Fenris’ eyes went wide in surprise and he glanced up at Anders’ face briefly before staring at the lack of what was usually between the mage’s legs. 

“Is… Can I…” Fenris trailed off, unable to find the right words to properly phrase it. He lifted his hands a little to try and display his desire. 

Anders was giggling, both hands on his chest in a very girly manner and he swayed his hips. “Oh dear serah, but touching me so inappropriately, what are you thinking?” He laughed and put his hands on his hips, grinning at Fenris. “Looks pretty convincing for the first glance, doesn’t it? But everything is still there, it’s just rearranged. You can touch though.”

As soon as he had permission, Fenris’ hands were on Anders, skimming over his skin and trailing his fingers everywhere he could reach. “You look… How does it work?” he asked, trying to distract himself. 

“You gently push the balls inside your body, pull your penis back, so it rests between your cheeks - that’s where a bit of magic or the tight underwear comes handy. Then, you can use the skin of the ball-sack to form the lips,” Anders pointed to the right place. “When you get hard, it becomes a little uncomfortable, but nothing in this world is perfect. It’s still nice for a show, giggles, or, in some cases, simply to live through the day without hating yourself. I can show you how it’s done, just a word of warning, it feels really weird at first.”

“No, I'm okay, for now I just want to look at you. And touch,” Fenris said with a slightly crooked grin, glancing up at Anders and trailing his fingertips along where the skin of his balls folded to recreate the look of… female anatomy. “I like it. It's… I like it. But I like your normal self more.”

“Aww, thanks.” Anders reached out and caressed the white hair. “It’s good to hear about your preferences, aside that you like me on my knees begging for more. You know, if I’m dumping too much on you and you need to think it over, just say so. I guess… I can understand where you’re coming from. You’re just trying to decide what you like after being told for so long what you should.”

“If you were ‘dumping too much’, as you say, I wouldn’t still be in the bath with you,” Fenris said without hesitation, leaning into the hand in his hair. “I may be unsure of what I like but I know I won't let anyone try to control me. But I don't believe you would do so on purpose.”

“No, that’s not really my style,” Anders nodded, burying both his hands into Fenris’ thick hair. “I’d simply like to know what you like. We’ve been doing this for a while now and I’m still not sure what feels good to you. I have half the mind to take you down to my clinic for a thorough examination. Making you lie back on my table and give you a good massage, so I could find every single spot on your body that makes you gasp.”

Fenris chuckled slightly, humming happily at the feeling of Anders’ hands in his hair. “I like that,” he said, leaning further into the touch. “I like your hands in my hair. I like it when you trail your fingertips across my brands, so gently as if you think every touch hurts.”

“I can never be sure it doesn’t; us mages can’t always control ourselves to a hundred percent,” Anders explained with a smile. “Sometimes we discharge harmless wisps of mana if we get emotional. And I happen to think they look lovely against your dark skin. I can feel the lyrium tickle my fingertips when I touch them. Um-- since we’re at it. Fenris, I don’t think you have to be so wary of Justice. He-- I think he likes you. And that’s definitely something, he doesn’t _like_ a great many of things.”

Fenris’ eyebrows shot up, distracted from his reply about Anders’ mana. “What makes you think your spirit _likes_ me, as you say? I don't mean to be so cautious about it, but it's just… I have seen what it can do through you, what it almost did to that young woman. It is dangerous and unpredictable. More so than our normal levels of dangerous unpredictability,” Fenris said with an attempt at a small grin, trying to lighten the conversation. 

It didn’t work. Anders sank to his knees with a melancholy expression and curled his arms around Fenris’ shoulders. “Let me tell you a tale about some Wardens I knew. After my last escape, I was captured again, and if not for Warden-Commander Constantine Amell, I would’ve been dragged back to Kinloch Hold, likely to be executed or turned Tranquil. He saved me by conscription and protected me afterwards. He met Justice in the Fade and after Justice was literally thrown into our world, Constantine simply brought him along. Me and the others, we were very wary of him. Especially me. I’ve been taught that every creature in the Fade is a demon and wants nothing but wreak havoc once unleashed. I fought alongside Justice more times that I care to count. We grew close, we started to understand each other to a degree. One of my comrades, Nathaniel Howe, the heir of the Arling of Amaranthine eventually suggested that Justice should take a living host. He said-- if Justice gave instead of taking, he’d prove he was no demon. Justice contemplated that for a good while.” Anders sighed, absentmindedly threading his fingers through Fenris’ hair still.

Fenris had never heard many tales or stories of Anders’ life before the elf had come into Hawke’s merry group, only a few weeks after Anders had anyway. It intrigued him and made him want to learn more about the mage and - he reluctantly admitted to himself - the spirit he harboured. Fenris stayed silent as he wrapped his arms around Anders in the hope that he would continue. 

“Justice and I were friends,” Anders went on. “Friendship builds fast when your life’s at stake and we were battling the Blight, fighting darkspawn. We talked a lot. About a lot of things, magic, the Fade, spirits and demons, humans… He was fascinated by our world. He liked the concept of things staying the same here unlike in the Fade. Sometimes I wished-- well, he was residing in a corpse back then, so. Uh.” He ducked his head and laughed. “He even told me that-- the form he wore in the Fade was a Templar’s. He saw them in people’s dreams, the stalwart defenders of justice, the innocent, so he made himself look like them, for hundreds of years. And then me and Constantine filled him in about their real nature. And Kinloch was far from the worst. I suppose part of his anger comes from the fact that he sort of believed in the Templars.

“Eventually, he proposed our joining. Then, I was the one contemplating. He offered his power, his support, so I could fight for those who weren’t able. He wished to remain in our world to get to know it better, but his time was running out. Eventually… I said yes. I’ve always wanted to bring mages freedom. So they won’t be torn from their families and friends, so they could love without fear, so they won’t be spat on simply for passing by. So I let him inside me. We had no idea-- If we knew--” He took a shaky breath and swallowed. Fenris could feel something hot on his shoulder, like warm rain.

Fenris held Anders closer, tightening his grip around his body. He turned his head to nuzzle Anders and kiss his temple and all over the side of his face slowly. For a while, Fenris said nothing, just tried to soothe his mage with slow strokes of his back and gentle kisses. 

“I have been unfair to you,” Fenris said eventually, pulling back to look at Anders, wiping away his tears. “I assumed… I assumed you were like the mages I had known my whole life. It's not an excuse, but a… reason, of sorts. It wasn't fair, to assume you were like them.” His lips curled up in a small smile. “Not _just_. I can't take back the words I have said since we met, but I can apologise and promise to try from now on. So… I'm sorry.”

Anders’ eyes flared up with bright blue light, but only for a moment. He blinked as the spirit settled back. I-- uh. It’s-- Apology accepted. You know, I can-- sort of feel what Justice feels. It’s complicated but it still works. He does like you. You’re trustworthy, loyal, strong, qualities he admires. If he disapproved, he’d keep you from touching me, especially the way we sometimes touch, you know, the hair pulling and you twisting my arm back… You got the idea. He’s very protective of me. A bit like a brother with a really big sword.” He chuckled. “So don’t be so scared if he wants to talk. I won’t let him hurt you.” Anders leaned closer and slowly kissed the elf.

Kissing back happily, Fenris let his eyes flutter shut. It was soft and passionate, without being desperate or lustful. It was… nice, for want of a better word. 

“As I won't let him hurt you,” Fenris said. “You're too dedicated to your cause, admirable as that is. You don't sleep enough, or eat enough. I intend to correct that. Even if I have to tie you down to do it.” He smiled happily and rubbed their noses together slightly. 

“That’s probably more than anything people ever did for me,” Anders mused. “Excluding the Warden-Commander, possibly. Let it be noted though that Wardens can’t starve. Apparently, we just get really thin. But thank you.” He stressed his gratitude with another kiss, this time, a deeper one.

“Well I don't want you thin,” Fenris grumbled against his mouth before kissing him back, sucking on Anders’ lower lip slightly and pulling him closer still until every inch of their chests were pressed together. 

“You wouldn’t want me fat either. Fat people don’t bend that easily.” Anders wiggled his hips a little. “Are we getting back in the mood?”

Fenris scoffed slightly but didn't respond to that. His hands went to Anders’ hips and gripped tightly for just a moment before merely resting. “It seems we are,” Fenris said after a few moments, grinning against Anders’ mouth. 

“That’s-- mmh. Really good, because I wanted to ask you a favor.” Anders showed off his nastiest grin, then stood up and leaned against the edge of the tub. He ran his hand down between his legs, where his cock was still safely tucked away. “You were a really bad boy,” he purred. “You made me cry, so now you’ll have to make it up and eat me out.”

Grinning widely, Fenris settled between Anders’ legs. He spread those pale thighs with his hands and kissed up the inside of them slowly, watching Anders with dark, hungry eyes, humour slowly being taken over by lust. 

“That’s nice, you’re getting there,” Anders encouraged. “If you do well-- I don’t know. We can stay in here, or move to that good-looking bench… I’d look good bent over it, don’t you think?” He sank his fingers into Fenris’ hair again - if the elf loved that, he certainly deserved a treatment. 

Fenris just hummed in response, his eyes half closing in desire as he reached the apex of Anders’ legs. He dragged the tip of his tongue between the folds around Anders’ cock; the skin of the scrotum no less sensitive without the balls there. 

Anders tipped his head back with a sigh and began to massage Fenris’ scalp. “Oh yes, good boy. Keep that up. In case you’d like to know, the jewels are hiding in here.” He pointed at his lower belly. “Just be gentle, we don’t want them to come out so soon.”

Fenris flinched slightly at being called a ‘good boy’ but quickly relaxed, pushing thoughts of Danarius aside. This was not the time for that. Fenris sucked on one side of the folds before he moved to lick along wherever he could reach Anders’ cock, hidden away like a prized treasure - which it most certainly was. 

Anders moaned with delight and tipped his hips forward to give more room for that talented tongue. He was getting harder and things started to get uncomfortable, but it was still an exciting and unique experience, so Anders kept going until he simply couldn’t. He gently pushed Fenris away, not wanting to slap him in the face. “You were great, I’ll forgive you,” Anders said generously. “Now let me rearrange things--” He reached back and let his penis free, just several firm strokes away from being fully erect. “How shall we proceed?”

More than halfway to hard himself, Fenris did mind all that much what direction they took from here. “Do you want to ride me? I like it when you do… What do _you_ want to do? I could continue eating you out if you wanted,” Fenris said, swiping his finger over Anders’ entrance. 

“All the decisions,” Anders whined. “We have no oil and for anything else, we should get out of the tub. You know, that bench is looking tempting. You could chain me to it and just do whatever you wanted…”

“I could,” Fenris agreed. “Or I could have my way with you in bed and if you don't hold still, I'll stop. I think making you keep still is much more satisfying than tying you up, as fun as that is.”

Anders slowly shook his head in disbelief. “You are heartless and cruel. Do you expect me to stay still with that dick in my ass?” He pointed down at Fenris’ cock. “Or that tongue? If you want to torture me, get a whip or tie a leash on my neck and walk me down to the market naked, but holding still?” He placed a theatrical hand on his chest. “You are a monster.”

Unable to hold back his laugh, Fenris grinned and went back to kissing at Anders’ thighs. “ _Or_ I could suck you off and then have my wicked way with you. There are so many choices,” Fenris pretended to muse. 

“I am actually very much okay with you sucking me off,” Anders held up a hand with a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. “You haven’t done that to me yet. I’m curious… and I remember, you told me not to grab you.“ He reached out to cup Fenris’ jaw with both hands, tipping the elf’s head up so they could look into each other’s eyes. “Suck me dry.”

Fenris leaned up to press a brief, soft kiss to Anders’ lips, grateful that the mage had remembered. He settled down between Anders’ legs again and slowly ran his tongue up and down the length of his cock, holding it still with one hand so most of the stimulation was coming from his hot tongue. 

It was a good thing the tub stood close to the wall; Anders leaned against the sturdy bricks and grabbed the edge tight, to not slip or fall. His moans and sighs filled the room and on occasion, he gave a caress to the head bobbing between his thighs. “F-Fenris! Oh, you’re so skilled…! Give me more, please-- Oh shit, so good!” 

Sucking at the base of the underside of Anders’ cock, Fenris glanced up at him as he began to rub his thumb beneath the tip, licking his way up slowly, tantalisingly close to taking him in but never going all the way. He wrapped his lips around the head of Anders’ length and sucked in a slow rhythm. 

The breath hissed through between the healer’s teeth and his back arched. He kept babbling, praising Fenris’ skill and talent, repeating how good it felt, how hot and wet and perfect the elf’s mouth was. After a while though, the moans became frustrated; the pleasure was not enough and Anders tried to urge his lover to quit the teasing and start with the serious work. “Come on…!” He whined. “Fenris, suck harder, I want to come…! Show me how good you are!”

Fenris continued as he was for a few moments, smirking internally, as if he were just going to keep on at the languid pace. He chuckled after a while and took more of Anders into his mouth, slowly taking more and more in until he had near all of Anders’ length between his lips, humming around him. Fenris rolled the mage’s balls between his fingers slowly, pressing his knuckle against his perineum. 

Anders held very still, not daring to move and somehow stop the wonderful sensation. He stared down at the elf, drinking in the sight and his cock twitched at Fenris’ touch. “You know,” Anders whispered, smoothing the white tresses out of Fenris’ forehead, “even when you’re on your knees, you’re controlling me. You decide whether I can come or not. Please…” he swallowed hard. “Please allow me to come down your throat.”

Fenris pulled away, breathing deeply, to continue to mouth at Anders’ election, flicking his tongue into the slit. 

“Ask nicely. Plead for me to let you come in my mouth. Tell me why I'd want the come of a dirty little slut like you,” Fenris growled, taking Anders into his mouth again and sucking hard on him. 

Anders shuddered. “Because-- um. Because-- it’s magic? It’ll make you stronger. It’s really good for you, like milk.” He lasted for three heartbeats before he doubled over with laughter. 

Fenris sudden laughter made him gag and choke, coughing and laughing simultaneously as he leaned against the side of the bath, his stomach hurting after a while from laughing so hard. 

“Oh Maker,” Fenris sighed with a last little chuckle. “Please never ever say that again.”

“I’ll try my best,” Anders promised with a nod. "Now come back here." He beckoned to the elf. "I have no good reasons, so I'll resort to begging. At least, I suppose it's not a good reason that I want you to bring me to completion with those soft lips and talented mouth of yours, but I don't want to stain your handsome face with my filth. I don’t want to be like… others, but-- Please, please let me come in your mouth. It’d make me feel special. It’d mark me as your favorite… Because no-one is allowed to have this, just those my master likes. Please, Master Fenris… let me be your favorite.”

“Just Fenris,” the elf murmured, coming up to kiss Anders’. “You are my favourite pet, I promise. Even if you weren't my only, you'd be my favourite. My little mage… You can come in my mouth, I'll finish sucking you off now, okay?”

Fenris did as he said he would, taking Anders’ cock in his mouth again and quickly building up to the pressure of his sucks that he'd been on before they'd paused. 

The healer’s soft moans were like a melody, his fingers moved in Fenris’ hair as if stroking the strings of an instrument. He never pulled, just accepted what was given to him; his shuddering gasps sounding like a refrain in his song. A little later, when the pleasure escalated, short cries broke forth of him, and when Anders finally came, it was with Fenris' name on his lips.

Fenris suckled at him slowly, trying to get every last drop Anders could give him. After a few moments, he pulled back, leaning up to kiss over Anders’ face to reassure him and bring him down from his orgasm. 

“That's it, you're so good for me, Anders,” Fenris all but cooed gently, stroking through the mage’s blond hair. “Just like that…”

Anders clung to him, offering his throat for lips or fingers, he didn’t seem to care. The daze didn’t last for long though; his eyes cleared up and he smiled. “That was amazing,” he declared and smooched Fenris’ lips. You’re so, so fantastic with blowjobs. Though, I take you're not fond of being called master?" He squinted with an apologetic frown.

Fenris looked sheepish. “Uh, sometimes? I don't know. Sometimes I like it, like knowing that you're mine, other times it makes me feel like I’m becoming Danarius. I don't… It makes me feel like I’m going to hurt you,” he admitted. “And I don't want to hurt you.”

“You said something once… I think it was like ‘I want to hurt you but I don’t want to harm you’...? Anders tapped his chin in thought. “Stick to that. I want you to hurt me. As long as you don’t do me harm. Don’t worry too much. I have Justice, and he’ll stop you. He’ll hold your hands down and probably chew your cute pointy ears off, giving you a speech.” He smooched Fenris again. “And now I think I owe you an orgasm. Do something about it.”

Fenris sighed dramatically, as if getting an orgasm from Anders was a hardship. He couldn't fight his slight grin as he climbed out of the bath. He grabbed some towels and pulled Anders to his feet, kissing him and leading him back into the bedroom slowly. 

Miraculously, they arrived in one piece and decently dried up, having managed to towel each other up on the way. By the time he plopped down on the bed, Anders was full of expectations. “What should I do?” he inquired, rubbing his head, so his hair won’t be dripping, either. “Command me, I’m yours.”

With a small towel in his grip, Fenris buried his hands as best he could into Anders’ hair, draining as much water as he could. He used the opportunity to kiss Anders as much as he could, mostly on his lips but also along his jaw and down his throat. 

“Surprise me,” Fenris said after a minute or so, sitting back with lust and trust shining in his eyes.

“And suddenly I’m the one who should do the thinking?” Anders quickly combed his hair out with his fingers then rubbed his chin in thought. “I think I have an idea.” He felt around the bed until he found the vial that took up permanent residence under the pillows by now. He uncorked it, poured a small amount over his fingers then turned his back to Fenris, settling on all fours. Anders reached back and slowly circled his own hole with a slickened fingertip. “How about I give you something to look at…?”

If Fenris’ cock wasn’t already hard from sucking Anders off, he definitely was now. He swallowed hard and knelt back, squeezing the base of his cock when it strained almost painfully. “Go ahead,” Fenris said, voice rough with a sudden wave of lust. 

Anders grinned and obeyed. He slowly pushed a finger inside, just to tease, then added more oil and began to properly prepare himself. Fenris had the nicest view ever; Anders even alternated his methods, sometimes reaching back between his legs, instead of over his back. By the time he had two fingers in fully, he was panting too, his half-erect cock dripping on the sheets. Whether it was Warden stamina, rejuvenation magic or he just really was that sensitive at the backdoor, he was interested again. After a bit more oil and a slowly inserted third finger, Anders lowered his upper body on the bed, ass still up in the air and glanced at Fenris, cheeks deep pink from arousal. “Please fuck me,” Anders panted. “I want you inside. Please fill me up.”

Fenris shuffled over to kneel behind him, taking Anders’ backside in hand and squeezing him firmly, spreading them so he could admire the job Anders had done. He bit down on one full cheek, kissing at the mark. “You’re so desperate, pet,” Fenris said with admiration in his voice. He took hold of Anders’ cock. “Look at this. Gorgeous… I’m going to fuck you now.” True to his word, Fenris pressed his cock against Anders’ open hole, pushing in slowly and groaning at the heat of him. 

Anders arched his back with a shuddering gasp, fingers curling into the sheets. Oh yes…! Please fuck me hard, show me how strong you are--- Bruise me, break me, destroy my ass, Fenris, please!” He bit the linen. “I want to feel it, I want to really feel it!”

Two lyrium-lined hands gripped Anders’ hips tightly and Fenris pulled him back hard onto his cock as he thrust forward, gritting his teeth. If the mage wanted to be bruised and broken, Fenris would most certainly oblige. “You’ll be feeling it tomorrow, mage,” he growled in Anders’ ear. “You’ll be limping around your clinic while you heal people. Maybe I should send you in with your plug, stuffed full of my come, so you can’t even _move_ without knowing I’m inside you.”

“We need more toys,” Anders groaned. “People will ask about the tail… but yes, fill me with your come then plug me up so I can’t forget for a moment that I’m yours--! Make me hurt, I want to see the bruises on my hips! A-and then--” He chuckled breathlessly. “Come down to my clinic, rip off my clothes and fill me up again…!”

Fenris chuckled darkly, deep in his throat as one of his hands snaked into Anders’ hair, gripping and scritching at his scalp before pressing him further into the mattress and setting up a brutal pace of hard, fast thrusts that jolted the bed and made Fenris break out into a sweat, but he didn’t care. He wanted to make Anders come again, wanted to ruin him. He scratched down Anders’ sides and up his thighs sharply, making sure that the marks would stay until morning at least, without drawing blood. “You want to be _broken_ , mage?” Fenris asked in a growl. “Do you want me to pull you apart, only to put you back together again? I could, and you’d let me, because you’re my good little pet.” Fenris fell silent to focus on the thrusts that he’d slowed to talk. 

Anders’ cries were muffled against the bed; his body rocked with the thrusts, nearly toppling over. He had to widen his stance and brace himself with one arm against the headboard. There was pain but he welcomed it, knowing Fenris wasn’t going to hurt him seriously. “It hurts so good,” Anders whined once he managed to suck in enough air to talk. “Tear me apart, Master, use your little pet, please don’t stop, please make me come!”

A snarl tore from Fenris and his fingers tightened on Anders’ hip and shoulder even more, his blunt nails digging in hard. He didn’t have the spare mental capacity to talk, so busy focusing on Anders and aiming for his prostate that he could hardly think. He wanted to make Anders come just from this, without a hand on his cock, and he’d keep going until he had to stop. Fenris scratched down the line of Anders’ spine, marking him all over.

The pale body underneath his hands squirmed and convulsed and Anders simply couldn’t shut up; he moaned, groaned, hissed, and eventually pretty much sobbed as the hard thrusts hit his prostate, the pleasure of it too sharp, too intense. He kept pleading, whether for more or for mercy was anyone’s guess. Amidst all the trashing, his orgasm came without many signs; Anders seized up, his nails scraped at the headboard and with a howl, he shot his load, his darkened penis twitching between his marred thighs.

Fenris swore loudly as Anders clamped down on his cock in his orgasm, and it was enough to push him over the edge too, having been holding back as best he could. His hips slowly came to a stop as Fenris worked himself through his orgasm, panting heavily. He straightened up again when the room stopped spinning and his muscles ached in the best way, his skin coated in sweat. Leaning down, Fenris kissed between Anders’ shoulder blades and pulled out of him so carefully; Anders was bound to be sore and aching after that. 

“Good boy,” Fenris soothed softly, stroking over Anders’ hair and kissing at his head as he stroked everywhere he could reach from where he moved to kneel beside Anders’ head. “You’re such a good boy for me, pet, you’re so good… Was I too rough with you? Shall I clean you up or do you want to keep my seed?”

“K- keep…” Anders breathed. “Maker… you really-- Y-you nearly broke me.” He pulled himself up with a wince and dropped his head into Fenris’ lap, his arms embracing the elf’s hips. “You could break me. You’re so strong. It hurt. Still hurts. But-- but it’s good. I feel so-- used and it’s--” He was trembling subtly. “H-hold me, please, hold me, hold me--”

Fenris lifted Anders easily, cradling him in his lap and carefully positioning him so there was no pressure on his rear. “I’m here, I’m right here for you, pet. You were so good. Relax, Anders, take deep breaths. Are you thirsty, hungry? Cold, hot? Do you need anything?” he asked, fussing over Anders. 

The healer laughed a little, sneaking his arms around the dark shoulders and leaning his head on them. “You. I just need you. I’m fine… I’ll be okay, it was just quite intense.” He did take a few deep breaths though, and the trembling subsided. “You could probably really break bones with your bare hands. I’ll be so sore and bruised.” Anders squinted up and shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m pleased with that. I like it when you get a little rough.”

“I have, before. Broken bones, that is. I think it must be the lyrium that gives me the strength, even when I’m not using it. But that doesn’t matter right now,” Fenris said, kissing Anders on the forehead softly. “I’m pretty sure that counted as more than a ‘little’ rough, mage.” He chuckled softly, holding him closer. “But I’m glad you enjoyed it. So did I.”

“You horrible _thing_ , you,” Anders said, words oozing with affection; even it was a bit on the sly side. “I’ll be limping tomorrow just like you promised. Also, now you have perfectly good reasons to buy more things. Include a mask and a hooded cloak, I want suspicious, violent strangers breaking into my clinic after I just closed it.” He yawned, hiding it against Fenris’ skin. “How about a nap? Then we’ll have an early dinner, possibly practice a little and you can walk me back to Darktown.”

“You can stay the night, you know,” Fenris said, trailing his fingertips over Anders’ skin. “You're always welcome here. I'll have to see what I can do about the cloak,” he added with a cheeky grin. “I'll surprise you one day, just wait and see.”

“That’s what I like about you, you’re reliable,” Anders murmured. He eased himself back on the bed and tugged Fenris close for warmth. 


	7. Lost Little Lamb

Garrett Hawke slipped down off the ladder leading from the basement of his estate into Darktown. The torrential downpour from yesterday had stopped during the day, and puddles had pooled on the Hightown stonework, but it was most obvious in Darktown. Since it was the lowest point in the city and nowhere for the water to easily go after that, the area had become a veritable ocean of its own. The small fires of the homeless were wet and not even embers lingered in the logs. Huffing in frustration at how _little_ the Chantry was doing to help the people who needed it most, Garrett vowed to find some way of his own. 

It was late, and he was grateful to see the lanterns of Anders’ clinic out. Even at this hour, Anders would be awake inside sorting out his manifesto. The man worked too hard, but that was why Hawke brought him sugary snacks and bread that he would watch the mage eat, not leaving until he'd seen it all been eaten and not hidden somewhere to give away in the morning. 

Hawke knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for a response, saying “Anders!” in a sing-song voice as he entered. 

“Hawke!” The healer sharply tilted his head up and wrenched his hand from beneath his collar where it previously lingered. He got up from behind his desk, wincing a little and walked up to Hawke with a smile, one arm extended in a greeting. There was something odd about Anders’ gait… was he limping? Also, the light was faint down here, but it seemed like there was a dark tint lingering on his cheeks. 

“Good evening, my friend,” Anders squeezed Hawke’s upper arm with a warm smile. “It’s nice to see you. I hope you’re not in need of my expertise?”

Hawke took hold of Anders’ hand and pulled him in for a hug, noticing the wince it brought. “I came to make sure the cold and rain yesterday hadn't killed you,” he said with a smile. “Although I can see you're a bit worse for wear. What happened? Did someone hurt you? Was it Athenril? I can beat the shit out of her back if she hurt you.”

“What? No, no, I’m fine,” Anders protested. “I- changed clothes yesterday and had some hot tea, it helped to warm me up. You don’t have to worry. As you can see I’m still up and about. I’m a healer you know, I can take care of myself. Come, sit.” He gestured toward the table farther away with the low chairs. Like most of the furniture, it was probably scavenged from somewhere.

“Then why, O mighty healer, don't you heal yourself?” Hawke asked, following to sit when Anders did. “Tell me what happened. And if you refuse…” Hawke sighed dramatically, hands coming up with his fingers curled slightly. “I'll have to tickle you until you tell me. Show me?”

“Come on, don’t be so childish,” Anders rolled his eyes. He readjusted his collar a little though, drawing it tighter. “Why do you think something is wrong with me? I’ve been here all day, tending to the sick and injured, I’m just a little tired is all. Not tired enough for being unable to fight back though.” He wiggled a finger at the warrior as a warning. 

“I'm not being childish,” Hawke grumbled with a slight pout, dropping his hand. “You keep touching your collar. You don't normally do that. You were limping when I came in. You never limp. I just want to make sure you're okay. I brought cookies too, but you won't be getting any until you tell me.”

“Aww, come on!” Anders leaned forward with a desperate glimmer in his eyes. “You know how much I love sweets! Okay, I-- got into some-- minor incident, but I’m here, not bleeding, nothing is broken, can we get to the part where I get the cookies and you’re treated with tea?”

Hawke’s eyes narrowed. “Minor incident with who? No one touches my favourite mage and gets away with it. I want to see. Show me, please? I promise I'm not being creepy!” Garrett added quickly. “I just want to make sure you're okay with my own eyes… Please?” he pouted slightly and looked up at Anders with puppy eyes. 

“Showing off my ass for cookies _is_ a touch creepy,” Anders said before he even realized what he was saying. Panic flared up in him immediately; what was Hawke going to think? Anders definitely didn’t want to tell about his relationship with Fenris. It was their secret, no-one else needed to be involved, especially not Isabela or Merrill. Or Varric, for that matter. The injuries looked nasty, too; while Anders took a twisted pride in bearing his lover’s marks, the bruises showed starkly against his pale skin. He really looked beaten up, and what if Hawke didn’t believe that it was consensual? No, Anders was absolutely not going to admit that a lover had been manhandling him, even though it was at his express request.

“I mean,” Anders added in a hurry, “I’m fine, really, I do appreciate the concern-- You’re so kind.” He had to smile despite his distress, since Hawke really cared, more than most. Actually, most didn’t care at all. “It’s not a big deal.” He snuck a hand into his collar, to a love bite Fenris left and fed a touch of healing magic into it, hoping the warrior won’t notice. “See?” He pulled the fabric away, so Hawke could take a look, and Anders prayed he won’t see anything suspicious. 

Hawke squinted his eyes to look for anything there and huffed when he found nothing. “Fine, fine, be secretive about the rest of you. It's not like I haven't seen you undressed before, you know?” Hawke pointed out, holding the paper bag out to Anders regardless. “Orana made them this afternoon, said to take them to everyone.”

“She’s such a darling,” Anders latched on to the topic change. He took a cookie, sniffed it and bit into it with a blissful smile. “Mm-- Maker bless, tell her these came out wonderful. She’s feeding you well-- you know, since Isabela wouldn’t.” He grinned at Hawke. “So, did you take the rest to the others? How’s everyone doing? I hope you dried up quickly as well, I know I was soaked down to my smalls. Don’t take us out in such a rain again, please.”

“It wasn't part of the plan,” Hawke said defensively. “How was I supposed to know the Maker would try to drown us in our tents? I took some to Varric when I went to see Bela earlier. Took some to Merrill. Aveline was too busy to see me so I left them with Donnic instead. Fenris was my last stop. He's being uncharacteristically happy. I think we need a healer’s diagnosis,” Hawke grinned. 

Anders coughed when a few crumbs went the wrong way. “Happy…? What does that mean in his case? He’s not brooding over a bottle of wine?”

“He told me a joke,” Hawke said. “Some silly thing that he got from Varric, but an actual joke. He smiled. “We had some wine but Fenris didn't down the bottle like he normally does. Has he said anything to you?”

“No…?” Anders smiled behind his hand. “But I’m not going to do anything about it. Maybe he’ll even stop calling me an abomination, and I’m not going to complain. He might be just improving from your good influence.” He looked into Hawke’s eyes, sincere. “We all do.”

Hawke snorted in amusement. “My ‘good’ influence? Oh, my mother would have found that hilarious. I'll have to tell Bethany in my next letter. I'll go now, unless you desperately want me to stay? I've just remembered something I need to do.”

Anders felt tempted to make Hawke stay - he was still a gorgeous piece of man, one who didn’t think twice about cuddles if someone seemed in the need for one. Eventually though, the healer shook his head. “I’ll be fine. You can come to my clinic any time of the day, and I know you will, so I’m not going to keep you all for myself. Thank you for the cookies… I think I’ll have them for dinner.”

“Cookies aren't enough, but… At least I've got you to eat something,” Hawke said with a slight smile, standing and checking his belt for his daggers. “I'll see you tomorrow, Anders.” 

Hawke left and as soon as he shut the door behind him, he scowled deeply. He had some thugs to find. No one hurt his friends and got away with it. 

***

He only waited until next day; there was still a fine spray in the air, but it couldn’t penetrate his cloak as he hurried down the streets, targeting Fenris’ mansion. True, the elf wasn’t particularly fond of Anders, but he had a sense of-- justice. For a moment, Hawke drifted off mulling that over; they haven’t seen much of the glowing spirit as of late. Sure, he showed himself when the battle was raging, but otherwise made no appearance. It was a bit of a relief; Hawke, being a fighter, knew little about such creatures even if his family had two mages. He really wanted to believe that Justice was no threat to anyone, Anders included but… he looked scary. 

He reclaimed his focus once he reached Fenris’ mansion. Utilizing his usual, direct approach, Hawke simply marched in, stopped in the hall and howled. “FENRIS!”

Fenris appeared in the doorway of his room, sword in hand. “Hawke? What's wrong?” he asked, disappearing back into the bedroom for a moment to pull on his breastplate and gauntlets. “What happened?”

“Oh, I see you’re already up.” Hawke smiled widely. “It’s not an emergency, I just came to ask if you’d be up to join me to beat people up. I have a score to settle with a gang. Or a person. I’m not entirely sure, but I’m going to find it out the hard way.” He smacked one armored fist with another.

“If you wish,” Fenris said, coming over. “What kind of score? Did someone piss on that statue of you over at the docks again?” Fenris grinned. 

“Some crimes will have to go unpunished,” Hawke shrugged, then his expression darkened. “It’s personal. Someone did piss on something I love, and I don’t take too kindly to that.” He hesitated for a moment. “I think someone is harrassing Anders. No, shut it, I love you, but I love him as well. He’s working himself to the bone down there, trying to save lives, he does not deserve this shit. I went to his clinic last evening, and he was… a little shaken, edgy, as if hiding something. He had a faint limp and when I hugged him, he winced… He denied it, but I think he was injured. So I’m going to find who was responsible for that, and I’m gonna beat the crap out of them.”

Fenris scowled darkly. “Someone hurt Anders?” The dark possessiveness that usually only surged when the mage himself was around made itself known. “Let's go,” Fenris said, strapping his sword to his back. 

“Oh? No griping about mages abusing their powers?” Hawke blinked. “Not that I’m complaining, it’s-- nice to see you-- like this. You’ve changed. I can’t quite put a finger on it, but it was a change for the better.” He gave Fenris a smile. “Let’s start around the docks. We’ll ask some questions, bash in a few noses, punch out a few teeth. Unless of course if you have a better idea?”

“I don't know. The mage… He spends most of his time in his clinic. So I hear,” Fenris added quickly. “I don't want to know what he does when he is elsewhere. He is… Your friend. I would rather not cause tension between you and him. I'm ready, let's go. Is it just us?”

“I’m thinking about picking up Varric, if he has no other business, like reading the diary he stole from my bedroom.” Hawke rolled his eyes. “He has connections. And I love to watch him intimidating people.”

Fenris laughed a little. “I imagine all that's in your diary is the number of torn trousers in your collection. Let's go find Varric. Not that it's hard to locate him,” Fenris said, heading for the door. 

***

Varric immediately agreed to tag along; he liked Anders a great deal and the thought that someone might have hurt him infuriated the dwarf. 

“That’s not why I pay a regular and let me note, quite decent sum to the gangs to leave him alone!” he declared, swinging Bianca over his shoulder. “Blondie does plenty of good, he doesn’t deserve this shit! I have an idea where to start.”

“Alright,” Fenris said. “Let's go. Where did you have in mind? I wasn't aware you paid bribes in order to keep the mage safe.” Fenris couldn't help but feel like it should be _him_ protecting Anders like that, but he was grateful to Varric nonetheless. 

“Going somewhere without me?” Isabela said, coming down the stairs of the Hanged Man, her hips swaying steadily. “Not planning to leave me behind, are you, darling?” She trailed her fingers over Hawke’s forearm. 

“I wouldn’t want to drag you into my fights, princess.” Hawke curled an arm around her waist. “Only if you insist. Someone apparently roughened Anders up, we’re going to find the bastard and serve him his own nuts well done with rosemary.”

“The Six Knives were giving me glances when I talked to them last time,” Varric mentioned. “I pay them too, but they’re stupid; I wouldn’t put past them to try to go behind my back. Also, their leader’s a brute. Even more so than the rest. He’s the type to take children’s lunch money, so they’re a prime suspect.”

“Someone touched my Sparklefingers?” Isabela asked, voice hard. “Let's go and gut them. Although, darling, I do like your idea,” she said to Hawke, looping her arm through his. “Let's pay a visit to these Six Knives, then teach them not to touch my baby.”

Fenris prickled at Isabela’s words but said nothing, just heading for the door. The reminder that Isabela and Anders had slept together, once upon a time, rankled him, but he pushed the thought aside. 

***

Three hours and four gangs later, Hawke stopped at an inn at the higher end of Lowtown and invited the party for lunch. So far, nothing came up. They slapped a few people, glared at them and Isabela grabbed a pair of nuts indeed, reducing their hulking owner into a tearful, trembling wreck, but everybody was denying everything. Regardless, Hawke assured them that in case they got any bright ideas about the Darktown healer in the future, heads were going to roll. 

“We’ve got still plenty of options,” Varric mused over a steak and a glass of wine. “It’d even make sense for the smaller gangs to try and bother Anders, the big ones tend to keep their bargains, most of the time.”

“Yeah, but smaller gangs won’t send so many people, and even then, Anders can defend himself!” Hawke lamented. “He has magic, he has-- that spirit thing, he can totally stand his ground in a fight!”

“Smaller gangs wouldn't go for such a high profile target,” Fenris said as he had a glass of wine. “The people of Darktown would lay down their lives for their healer. I don't understand how Anders got injured. Did you see his injuries?”

“Oh yes, did you get the lovely mage naked, darling?” Isabela purred, pressing her breasts against Hawke’s arm. “Did you kiss him better all over?”

“Shut up, Bela,” Fenris snapped, glaring at her with daggers in his eyes. 

“Whaaat?” she blinked innocently. “That’s what I would do!”

“I haven’t seen anything, actually…” Hawke admitted. “He kept adjusting his collar, but there was nothing underneath. He was limping though. Faintly, but he was. I’m sure he has bruises.” He chewed on a roll with a miserable expression. “He was beaten. I might just go back and kiss it all better, it just-- makes my skin crawl to know someone hurt him. I feel responsible.”

Fenris automatically began to consider the extent of Anders’ injuries. He'd been bruised and– And limping when he'd left Fenris’ mansion. Fenris had made sure to leave a dark, heavy bite on his throat before he’d allowed Anders to leave, he– He’d left Anders limping. They weren't looking for a gang at all. They were looking for _him._ Guilt - overwhelming, agonising guilt - hit him, made him breathless in the realisation. It made Hawke’s skin crawl? Anders had wanted Fenris to hurt him like that, hadn't he? He'd done nothing against the mage’s will, hadn't he? Uncertainty lapped at his heart. 

“Talk to him more about it,” Fenris said quietly, keeping his eyes down. “And don't ‘kiss it all better’.”

“I bet he’d love it though,” Isabela quipped in. “He likes kisses. What’s it to you, anyway, Fen? I get that you don’t like the Feathermage, but don’t spoil his fun just because of that. Or if you’re jealous of him, I’m sure I can find someone who’d love to keep you occupied. Maybe that’s why you’re so cranky all the time. Not enough fun.” She grinned, winked at Fenris and took a hearty swig from her tankard.

“Stop it, Isabela,” Fenris sighed. “I have plenty of fun, thank you. For now… I– I have to go. Do what you wish with the mage.”

Fenris finished his wine and stood, gathering his sword. 

“There's no need to go, elf,” Varric said. “Just because we’re going to see your arch nemesis, doesn't mean you can't tag along with us.” 

“Yes, please Fenris.” Hawke reached after the elf, though his fingers stopped shy of the armored wrist. “You were ready to fight for him in the morning. I’m sure he’d appreciate it even if you did it for my sake. Anders needs all the support now he can get.”

Fenris paused. “Fine. Alright, fine, let's go and see the mage when you lot have finished stuffing your faces.”

“I'd let you stuff something else if it would make you relax,” Isabela purred, making Fenris laugh slightly despite the disturbed look on his face. 

“Bela, calm your raging tits and drink your beer,” Hawke pleaded. “I want to get to the bottom of this.”

***

The lantern was lit at the clinic, and some people lingered about, possibly having their meager lunches at a relatively safe place. A few children eyed Hawke and his team curiously; some adults were vary, but a few eyes also lit up when they recognized the warrior. 

Anders showed up soon, wiping his hands with a rag. He blinked at the approaching party and cocked a brow. “This doesn’t bode well. How much elfroot potion do you need?”

“However much it takes to heal you of your injuries,” Hawke said with false cheerfulness. “You see, we've been all around town, knocking heads together to try and find out who hurt you, and everyone is denying it. The main gangs anyway. So we’re here, to see if you’ll tell us.”

Fenris couldn't stop his eyes from darting all over Anders’ body, looking for signs of injury where he had gone too far, but there was nothing obvious. Maybe Hawke was dreaming things and Anders was fine after their evening together. 

He suddenly did look like he wanted to run and hide though. “You-- you spent the morning interrogating people? Because I--” His cheeks started to darken with blood. “Maker preserve me. Hawke-- you’re a complete idiot. An adorable, generous, overprotective idiot, and I love you.” Anders’ face was a deep shade of salmon now. “I can’t believe you did this for me. It’s so-- flattering.” He pressed his hands against his burning face and giggled.

In the back, Varric raised a brow and Isabela’s lips opened as if she just came to a realization.

Hawke frowned. “Why is protecting my friend flattering? I need to make sure that the thugs that hurt you don't do it again. How did they get the jump on you with your--” Hawke was quiet and looked around before continuing more quietly. “With your magic and Justice?”

Isabela giggled, nudged Varric with a wink and a pointed look over at Anders. Fenris scowled at her behind her back. 

Anders walked over and promptly hugged Hawke. “You big lovely fool,” he cooed, the tips of his ears practically burning, but he couldn’t stop grinning. “No-one got to jump on me. Well, it wasn’t a jump.” He stepped back and tipped his chin up. “Alright, I do have bruises, but they weren’t inflicted by some gang or passing templars or whatever. I got them… from a lover.”

Isabela’s shrill catcall effectively alerted everyone in the area. Varric roared with laughter and Anders ran a hand down his face, still flushed and grinning from ear to ear.

Hawke drew back slightly to look at Anders in surprise. “I… see. You… Oh. Okay. Right. Tonight, will you come and stay at the mansion?”

Fenris blinked in surprise at Hawke’s sudden question. Was he planning to take advantage of Anders? Of course he wasn't, Hawke wasn't the sort. 

The healer seemed just as puzzled. “Sure… Especially if there will be dinner. However, concerning you two--” 

Isabela walked over giggling deviously and she snogged Anders, who only protested half-heartedly. “That’s my boy,” Isabela declared proudly. “Whoever the fortunate one is, make sure to give them the magic hands! Aww, I’m almost jealous!”

“Damn you, Blondie,” Varric snickered. “You made us threaten people!”

“I’m sorry--?”

“They needed that,” Varric waved it off. “Well then, just be safe and don’t forget about Friday night’s Wicked Grace.” He winked at Anders, patted Hawke’s back and walked off.

Fenris’ hands curled into fists when Isabela kissed Anders like that. He clenched his teeth and took deep breaths. He didn't mean to get so angry, to feel so possessive, but… Anders was his. After all they'd talked about, all they'd done, the mage was his. 

Isabela kissed Hawke’s cheek and waved at them with a curl of her fingers as she left. “Remember that trick, Sparklefingers!” she called over her shoulders. 

With the others gone and Fenris still near the door, Hawke’s expression shifted from careful and blank to downright _furious_. “Who the fuck did this to you, Anders? Whoever it is, they don't deserve to be with you if they hurt you like that,” Hawke hissed. 

Fenris turned and left quickly. He didn't need to feel even worse about himself. He wanted to go home and drown himself in a barrel of wine. It sounded like a good plan. 

“Hawke! Calm down, please!” Anders’ blush had finally faded. He placed his hands on the warrior’s shoulders. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t think you’d go to such lengths for my sake. You are the best friend I could wish for but please, don’t worry. It was nothing I didn’t want.” 

“Nothing you didn't– You don't need to lie to me, Anders. Whoever you're protecting doesn't deserve it, for what they did to you. If I find that piece of shit, I'll return the favour. You might have convinced yourself you wanted this but I can see the truth,” Hawke said firmly. 

“Hawke!” Anders’s warm eyes were blazing, and his voice cracked like a whip. “Listen to me. I know what I’m doing. Do you seriously think that after nearly twenty years spent in the Circle, I’d fall for my abusers?” He took a deep breath. “It sounds strange, I know, but I asked them to be rough with me. We had sex and they did what I asked of them and afterwards, they held me and we fell asleep together.” He was blushing again. “Trust me, I don’t ask to be bruised all the time. They can be so gentle and I-- I love to spend time with them. Do you think Justice would let anyone hurt me, really hurt me?” He cupped Hawke’s face with a smile. “Thank you for your concern. I truly appreciate it, you’re an amazing man, Hawke. But you don’t need to worry. I’m happy.”

Hawke was quiet and looked sufficiently scolded, blushing a little in embarrassment. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… Yeah. I'm glad you're happy. And that whoever it is is… Taking care of you, when you want it. Stay at mine tonight anyway?” he asked quietly, not holding out on a positive answer. 

“You’ll have to treat me for dinner,” Anders poked him in the chest. “It’s not that I’m angry, far from it. You had every reason to think I was in trouble… I apologize for not confessing right away. I just-- didn’t want to reveal my lover’s identity. I’m sorry that it caused any trouble.”

“It's okay, I know you value your privacy. They like theirs too, then? Do I know them?” Hawke couldn't help but ask. Not that it would narrow it down, he knew near enough everyone in the city. “I'll get Orana to make us whatever you want for dinner, whatever you fancy.”

“You know it doesn’t matter until there’s plenty of it,” Anders laughed. “But a nice thick soup, roast meat and some dessert would be lovely. I promise, one day I’ll bring my lover with, too. You do know them, I’m just concerned that Isabela and Varric would pester them for details.”

Hawke nodded with a small smile. “Okay. That's understandable. Varric is looking for inspiration for his next book, says he's considering using me and Bela. Some sort of pirate book. They're both so nosy. Anyway, I'd like to meet them, when you're ready,” Hawke said as his smile widened a little. “I'll go and let Orana know you're coming over. Shall I come and get you when dinner’s ready so you can lock up?” 

Anders stepped back and bowed elegantly. “Please do, good Ser. I will be counting on your arrival. And now out with you, I have people to attend to. Potions don’t make themselves.”

Hawke laughed and took hold of Anders’ hand to kiss the back of it as he bowed slightly too. “Good day, Serah.” With that, Hawke all but skipped out of the clinic, happy that the matter had been settled. 

Fenris, on the other hand, was not happy at all. He had hurt Anders. Hurt Anders to the extent that Hawke was disgusted with him. Hawke had been so… _angry._ It had scared Fenris, so he had left. That, and the broiling self-hatred rolling in his gut. As soon as he’d returned to his stolen mansion, Fenris made his way down to the wine cellar, and that was where he remained for the rest of the day, consuming bottle after bottle, moving onto even stronger stuff when it occurred to him who he had become. 

Fenris had turned into Danarius. It was obvious as soon as he saw it and he whimpered, clutching at his hair and pulling. He was _not_ Danarius, but all of the evidence was there. He was no better than the slavers that they killed, day in and day out. 

There might have been a big gap in his memory, but he still remembered vividly how he had been treated by his former master. Sometimes Danarius’ touch made his heart sing, and other times, they just made him scream. 

_“There’s a good boy. Such a pretty little thing. You’re my precious, Fenris, my pride. That’s good, just like that. Does it feel good? Easy now. Do you love me?”_

_“This will hurt me more than it does you. Why must you disobey me? Why must you make me punish you?”_

_“On your knees, and do what you do best. You were a bad boy, Fenris.”_

Pleasure and pain, they always walked hand in hand. Danarius was so eager to inflict both.

Fenris wanted to scream. He needed-- He couldn't be on his own anymore. Ghosts of his past were bubbling up to talk to him, to harass him, to drown him in memories. 

_“Say thank you for your beating, little wolf. It could have been a lot worse.”_

_“If you make a sound, Fenris, I'll have to punish you, and don't you dare ask me to stop.”_

Fenris pulled at his hair and whimpered in pain but it distracted him from the memories, long enough for him to stand and stumble up the cellar stairs. Where was he going? Anders, he needed Anders, even if the mage didn't want to see him. 

Fenris had to think for a minute, grasping at straws in his drunken mind. Hawke’s. Anders was at Hawke’s. Thankfully not too far. He didn't even have the thought to take his sword as he shuffled towards the door and out into Hightown. The crisp air and remaining puddles - cold where they lapped against his feet - sobered him up enough for the world to stop spinning as Fenris made his way to the Amell estate. 

He had no idea just how well into the night had he been sitting in the cellar, but it must’ve been late because the estate was quiet and dark. A lone torch was flickering at the entrance, illuminating the half-wild bushes and the stone bench nearby. 

At the tentative knocking, the door opened and Bodhan peeked out, eyes widening as he took in the sight. “Messere Fenris! Good evening-- I apologize, it’s a bit late-- Would you like to come in? Shall I rouse Master Hawke?”

Fenris entered the foyer at Bodahn’s encouragement. “If he's asleep, I don't want to trouble him,” Fenris said, managing to slur only slightly. “Did he retire long ago?”

“It’s nearly midnight, so it’s been a while,” Bodhan said, keeping the hint subtle. “He and Messere Anders had dinner, then they retired a while after. Should I give him a message come the morrow? If it’s somewhat urgent, I’ll wake him at a proper time; he wouldn’t mind.”

Fenris froze in his place, save for the slight swaying that came with his state of drunkenness. “Anders and…? No,” he said firmly, doing his best to hide the sudden trembling in his fingers. “No, there's no need to tell him I came. Goodnight.” 

Turning and fleeing into the dark, Fenris could feel his heart break a little more with every step he took away from the Amell estate. Why was he so upset? He knew that Anders had liked Hawke, once upon a time. He hadn't said that Anders couldn't sleep with anyone else, not that he recalled. He knew why, deep down, and it was something that he had denied up until now. 

Upon entering his mansion, for the first time, Fenris paused in the foyer. He turned and locked the door, leaving the key in the lock. It wouldn't stop a rogue from breaking in but it would slow them at least. Fenris returned to his bedroom and dropped his armour on the floor carelessly - something he would scold himself for in the morning - and crawled into bed, curling up under covers that still smelled of Anders. It was a poor replacement. 

The next morning, with very little sleep and nothing but his armour and weapons, Fenris left the mansion before the sun had even risen. He didn't deserve the friends he had, or the… whatever Anders was to him. He wouldn't force his presence on them any longer. He needed to be alone. There were plenty of slavers on the Wounded Coast that needed killing. It seemed like a good place to stop for a while. 


	8. Welcome Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fenris uses the a-word, fair warning. I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, though I think it is explained why he does that.

The cards whispered in Varric’s hand as he shuffled the deck and dealt to everyone. The silence in the room was odd; normally, they chatted, laughed or lamented their losses, but as of late, the regular game nights became increasingly gloomy. 

“Any news? Varric mumbled into Hawke’s general direction, eyeing his cards. 

“No.” Hawke heaved a long sigh. “Aveline had to stop the search, the guards are needed in Kirkwall; they have plenty to do, search missions aren’t their division.”

Anders looked like he was about to cry. Then again, nowadays he always looked like that, eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep. At times, Hawke went down to the clinic and found the healer on his cot, glowing blue; Justice informed him that Anders’ body reached its limits and he needed rest, both physically and mentally. 

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Isabela said, but she didn’t sound like her usual, confident self. “He’s a recluse. A bit like a stray cat, he’ll come back.”

“I miss my cat,” Anders mentioned absent-mindedly. 

Varric briefly stood to fetch a small, round bottle from his stash from which, he poured a shot and placed it in front of the healer. “It’s made with herbs, basically a medicine. It’ll do you good.”

“Thank you.” Anders knocked it back, coughed, shot an appreciative glance to the dwarf then dropped his head back into his hand.

***

The stone under Fenris’ feet was cold and rough after weeks of only dirt and soil and sand. It felt… odd. It was Wicked Grace night, he knew that instinctively. He had asked no one the day or the date, it was just something he could feel in his soul. 

Fenris was grimy and his armour dusted with sand. His normally white hair was slightly muddy and there was a scratch on his arm from a wolf he'd found in a hunter’s trap. He'd released it and the beast had only run away. Ashamed of his dirtiness but reluctant to go to the mansion first, Fenris pushed open the door to the Hanged Man. 

There was no raucous laughter that could usually be heard when Hawke and company were in, but Fenris headed up the stairs and hesitated at the top before moving to stand silently in the opening to Varric’s quarters. 

It was the dwarf who noticed him first, eyes widening and lips parting but no sound escaped. Isabela was next and her reaction was a lot more extreme. She jumped up shrieking Fenris’ name and all but threw herself at the elf, pressing her soft lips against his, her arms winding around Fenris’ neck.

Hawke threw his cards down and stood, eyes bright with relief, while Anders, after a brief consideration, lit up with spiritfire. 

“Fenris, we were so worried!” Isabela kept on smooching him, not caring that her bosom was pressed against cold and slightly dented armor. “Where have you been?” Suddenly, her eyes grew dark and with a sneer, she grabbed Fenris’ shoulders, shaking him. “You rat bastard! You just up and left without as much as a note, do you have any idea just how worried we were? We had no idea if you lived or died or your master kidnapped you or anything, I’m going to kill you!!” To stress her point, she kissed Fenris on the lips again. 

“Bela, let him go, main thing is he’s back…” Hawke attempted damage control. “It’s so good to see you, Fenris.” His smile was a little watery.

Fenris didn't respond beyond wrapping his arms around Isabela and drawing her into him. He buried his face in her neck silently and squeezed her. 

Isabela’s eyes went wide and she looked over at Hawke. She brought her hands up to hold Fenris as well, stroking through his hair slowly, scrunching her nose up slightly at how greasy and dirty it was but it didn't stop her. 

“Come and sit down with us, let's play Wicked Grace,” Isabela said with a smile, taking hold of Fenris’ hands and pulling him over to the table, sitting him down on the bench and squeezing in beside him. “Where've you been, sweet?”

Fenris shrugged slightly and took the cards that Varric offered him. 

“Are you okay?” Hawke’s relief was slipping; the elf looked anything but. “I mean, no need for healing? An-- Justice…? Uh. Are we-- going to enjoy your company tonight?”

“Before you ask, Anders needed a break. There was a lot of strain on him in the past two weeks,” the spirit rumbled quietly. “It was best to let him have his rest. He’ll return to you tomorrow. As I do not partake neither in gambling, not drinking, I believe it would make more sense for me to go back to the clinic and let the body rest.” He stood and nodded to Varric first, then the others. Finally, he paused next to the elf. “It is a reassuring to know that you are well… Fenris.” With that, he walked out.

Fenris looked after Justice almost wistfully before he focused on his cards again, rearranging them to his liking. After a few moments, he opened his mouth and quietly said, in a voice hoarse from lack of use, “I apologise for my disappearance.”

“Hey, it's okay, darling,” Isabela cooed, kissing at his cheek. “You're home now, safe and sound. Where did you go, if you don't mind my asking?”

“Around. The Coast. Sundermount,” the elf said simply with another shrug. 

“Is there sand in places there shouldn't be?” Isabela asked. She purred, “I could help with that.”

She considered the quirk of a smile on Fenris’ face an achievement. 

***

It was a little past midnight when the game was wrapped up. Isabela won a considerable amount from Hawke and he generously offered that the warrior can devise other ways to work off his debt. Varric declared it a cue for all of them to retire. 

Fenris walked up to Hightown with the pair, only listening with one ear to Isabela’s wicked suggestions that were mostly directed to Hawke, but sometimes to the elf as well. No-one pried for more answers than he was willing to offer and he felt glad for that. 

At a point, he bid farewell and headed for his own place, feeling peculiar as he pushed the door open. He wondered if this is what it was like to have someplace called a home. 

Just before he stepped into the bedroom though, his instincts warned him of a presence. 

“Do not be alarmed, Fugitive.” The familiar rumble didn’t betray any emotions. “I merely wish to have a few words with you. Then I’ll leave you to your much-needed rest.”

“Speak then, if you must,” Fenris said hesitantly, eyeing Justice curiously as he set down his sword. Somewhat of a sign of peace between them. “What do you want?” 

Seeing his sword in its usual place brought a sense of… home to Fenris that he had not felt for a very, very long time. 

“I do not want to judge,” Justice stood from the bed - probably he was laying on it beforehand. “But your disappearance caused quite an alarm. I don’t think you considered the consequences, especially those concerning Anders.” He folded his arms, not threatening, merely… well, judging, albeit quietly. 

Fenris sighed and turned away slightly. What was he supposed to say? He left because he wanted to protect Anders? Because he was scared of what he was becoming? Because he didn't want to hurt the mage again? Instead, Fenris said nothing, merely staring at the floor as if it would give him the answers he was so desperate for. 

“I didn't consider the consequences,” Fenris agreed after a while, still refusing to look at the spirit. “I didn't want to. I just needed to leave.”

“I was led to believe that Anders made the right choice when he decided to associate with you,” Justice said. “I also admire your excellent qualities. This reckless action shook my faith in you though. I have observed that mortals sometime need to be alone but most often, they do not leave their loved ones guessing about their absence. At least not for two weeks. You didn’t just leave. You ran.”

Fenris laughed self-deprecatingly. “Yes. I suppose I did. Habit now, I guess. I don't… I don't deserve friends. I didn't think my absence would cause much trouble. I just-- I needed-- I'm…” Fenris growled in frustration at his own inability to find the words he needed. 

“Surely you had a reason,” Justice’s voice was softer compared to his normal authoritative rumble. “A solution can only be found if you recognize the problem. Find the cause and treat it, just like in the case of an ailment. You haven’t done anything that warranted a self-imposed exile, at least not to my knowledge. If you did, I wish to know, for Anders’ sake.”

“You should keep Anders away from me,” Fenris said bitterly, turning away and trying to pretend to busy himself with something else. “I'll only hurt him more than I already have. I disgust Hawke. Not that he knows it's me he's disgusted with. I don't deserve Anders when all I do is hurt him. Even when I want--” 

The sudden depth of his feeling hit Fenris like a mana bolt to the chest. Even with weeks on his own, he had been very carefully not thinking about Anders, as best he could. It had gone well but now that he'd returned… It suddenly occurred to him just how _much_ he cared for Anders, and that scared him beyond anything else.

“Please leave,” Fenris said, hands curling up into fists. “Please… just go.”

Justice shook his head slowly. “You were blessed with a marvelous thing, Fugitive: the strength to stand alone. But you’d do well to recognize that you’ve been given a gift just as precious: the knowledge that you don’t have to. I would protect Anders from any harm, as I have in the past; yet, I do not feel particularly inclined to rip your head off. At least, not for hurting Anders.”

“But I hurt him!” Fenris all but shouted, rounding on Justice to face him. “I hurt him more than I should have a-and it was so bad Hawke thought he'd been beaten up. _I_ thought he'd been beaten up, b-before I realised and it was just–” Fenris fell silent, taking shaky breaths. “I'm turning into Danarius, enjoying hurting other people, making them beg for things, I don't–” He stopped again before whispering, “I don't want to be him.”

“Mortals.” Justice somehow managed to look like he was rolling his eyes. “You infuriate me to the same degree to which you fascinate me. Stop hiding, Fugitive. Stop running. It is time to face your demons. Ask for help, let yourself depend on your friends just this once. Tomorrow, you will come to the clinic, and talk to Anders. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to slap some sense into you.”

“Why?” Fenris asked. “He wants Hawke, not me now. He's always wanted Hawke. He was with him the night I left. Probably fulfilling his lifelong dream of sex with Garrett Hawke. No, Justice, Anders won't want to see me.”

“You are seriously testing my patience,” Justice growled. “I’m always with Anders. I know his thoughts, his innermost feelings, I keep constant watch, and you still don’t believe me when I say that he _wasn’t hurt at all_?”

“Justice, please--” Fenris started. He sighed and turned away again, pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes. “You wouldn't lie… He was truly… I didn't…?”

“Hawke was upset because he thought one of his friends was beaten,” Justice explained. “It aggravates him when one of them suffers; he wants to protect them. You did inflict pain, but trust me… Anders did not suffer. It still astonishes me why he craves these things, but at least he sees his own needs and limits clearly. He explained it to Hawke. He didn’t mention your name, for he was trying to protect you from prying.”

“I didn't-- I didn't hurt Anders?” Fenris wanted to cry with relief and he hated himself for the weakness his emotions meant. “But he and Hawke… They didn't--?”

“They did not share vows of undying affection and exclusive commitment, if that’s what you’re asking.” The spirit tipped his chin up, folded his arms and looked at Fenris with an expression that could have been called smug, if it resided on anyone else’s face. “I’m not going to make it easy for you. Hardships build character. Come to the clinic when you’ve gathered the courage to face with the truth and speak to Anders. He will not have any recollection of this conversation.”

Fenris couldn't help his slight smile at Justice’s words. “Thank you,” he said after a few moments of silence, looking over at Justice. “Thank you. I will… try to come tomorrow evening, once the clinic is closed.”

“If you don’t, I’ll come looking for you. You cannot escape Justice.” The spirit bowed his head shortly. “Have a good rest.”

Fenris wasn't sure what to say in response but he watched Justice leave and took his armour off, setting it on its armour stand. It felt good to be out of it for the first time in weeks, and he knew he was filthy and disgusting, but the wave of emotions had exhausted him, sapping his energy until all he could do was fall into bed. 

***

The next day, Fenris woke long past dawn. From the position of the sun in the sky when he looked out of the window, it seemed to be past midday too. He bathed first, taking his time to get every bit of sand, dust and dirt off his skin and out of his hair. With hours still to spare before he went to see Anders, Fenris distracted himself with cleaning his armour, and picking at the long scab from the slash on his arm he'd received from a wolf. 

When the sun had set Fenris waited until it was dark before going through the cellar and using the exit into Darktown, heading for the clinic. 

The lantern was out, but the door was still open, light seeping out from the other side. Anders was probably packing up or writing, things he normally did after the hours of service wound down. When Fenris reached the door, his keen ears picked up a faint sound; Anders was humming to himself. 

Fenris paused to listen to the soft humming, smiling to himself before he took a deep breath and knocked on the open door. He didn't want to presume he was welcome, even if Justice had demanded he come. 

“Yes?” Anders quickly walked to the door and pushed it open. His arms fell as he realized that the visitor was no other but the stray elf. “Fenris--” the healer breathed, his eyes wavering. “I-- apologize for not greeting you, I-- I was-- overwhelmed,” he finished lamely. “Is there anything I could help with? It’s good to see you. You’d like to come in-?”

Fenris nodded and followed Anders in, shutting the door behind them. 

“Are you alone?” Fenris asked, fidgeting nervously. “I wanted to… I need to apologise. For running away like the coward I am. I thought…” Fenris huffed. “I thought I had hurt you more than you wanted and the things Hawke was saying… It felt like I was taking advantage of you, and… And becoming Danarius.” 

Admitting it to the spirit was one thing, Fenris found, but telling Anders himself was terrifying. His voice was shaking slightly and his hands trembling, and he kept his eyes on the floor so he didn't have to look at Anders’ face. 

“What--? Fenris!” Anders grabbed the elf’s shoulders. “For the love of the Maker, that was all? Hawke assumes something and you turn tails and run? I told you I wanted it, I thanked you for it, I asked you to bruise me! How did you even-- Like-- what, you think I’d allow anyone to beat me up? Blight it!” He shoved the elf and threw his hands up, raging. “I can’t believe you! You fucked off instead of talking to me, you disappeared-- for two fucking weeks! Do you have an idea how worried we were? We assumed the worst! Aveline set the Guards on finding you, we turned Kirkwall upside down! Is that how much we mean to you? Is that how much _I_ mean to you?!”

“I didn't think anyone would care really,” Fenris admitted in a voice barely above a whisper. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… It wasn't my intention that… It was just– The thought of hurting someone the way I was hurt, how you've been hurt in the past, it scared me. It fucking terrified me.” 

Anders knew how difficult it was for Fenris to admit weakness, and he could see it in the elf’s trembling fists. 

“You mean… a very great deal to me,” Fenris said carefully. “I understand if you no longer wish to continue our… arrangement.”

“And here you go, running away again as soon as a shadow falls on you!” Anders flailed. “Stop running! You’re not alone anymore! We’ll protect you! I’ll protect you! I don't want to give this up, I want you to hurt me and love me and I want to fix you because you’re broken and I love you!”

As soon as the words left his lips, Anders slapped both hands over his mouth and stared at Fenris in sheer horror.

Fenris’ eyes went wide and he froze in place. He didn't know what to say, he didn't know what to do. For the first time in his life, the words came without expectation. They were accidental, there was no… ownership. And Fenris was free to respond however he wished. Fenris was _free_. He walked up to Anders quickly and pulled the mage’s hands from his mouth before kissing him happily, letting one hand bury itself in Anders’ hair and the other wrap around his waist to hold him close. When he pulled away, only by an inch, he rested their foreheads together and kept his eyes closed. 

“I love you too,” Fenris whispered, opening his eyes slowly. 

“No, no, don’t say that, we can’t, I can’t-- we shouldn’t!” Anders whimpered, but his hands latched around Fenris’ shoulder. “I’m going to hurt you, it’ll all end in tears, our hearts will break and I don’t want-- I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It's okay,” Fenris said, kissing Anders again. “Relax. We’re free. We're both free. We're allowed to do as we please, and no one can stop us.” The realisation made Fenris grin widely. “You won't hurt me, it'll be okay.”

“I’m a wanted apostate!” Anders pointed out. “Templars could find me and raid this clinic, dragging me off to the Gallows to execute me or make me Tranquil!” He flinched at the thought. “You deserve peace. You need to settle down and be happy, enjoy your freedom, not keep looking over your shoulder. What if they catch you to get to me?” His fingers curled into fists in the fabric of Fenris’ tunic. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you suffering because of me.”

“Danarius could come in the middle of the night to _retrieve_ me. He'd take you too. You're an oddity, and a spirit healer. You're in danger too. I would not allow them to make you tranquil. I would rip Meredith limb from limb before I allowed that to happen. You are _my_ mage. My Anders,” Fenris said softly, pulling Anders closer still and burying his face in the mage’s neck, breathing deeply to draw his scent in. 

“I-- I’m going to end up hurting you,” Anders muttered insistently. “But-- it feels so good. I don’t want you to leave, I need someone to-- ground me. I’m yours. Please keep me. Even if it’ll end in flames, I want to be able to say I had someone… If only for a little while.” He ducked his head and his lips sought out Fenris’ for a desperate, passionate kiss.

Fenris met him halfway, clinging tight to Anders, with a fist curled into his clothing and hair wrapped around his hand. “You're mine,” Fenris whispered when he pulled away briefly, kissing him again and again, speaking between each kiss. “I'm not going to leave. You have me. I am yours.” 

“Never leave again!” Anders begged. “Not like this, never like this! I worked so hard to not think of you, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I’d have died if not for Justice!” The kisses were becoming frantic, and the healer’s hands began to roam. “I’m so glad you’re well. Don’t scare like me ever again!”

“Never,” Fenris promised as he kissed Anders back, hands going to buckles and clasps that he was long familiar with now. “I want to feel your skin,” Fenris whispered against Anders’ mouth, kissing him again with happy desperation. 

“I want to feel a lot more than just your skin,” Anders snarled, attacking Fenris’ clothing. “You still owe me a lot of kinky sex.” He began to inch backwards, until he found the edge of his desk. “I just don’t know whether to punish you for running off, or to demand a celebration now what you’re back.”

Fenris lifted Anders with his hands underneath his thighs and set him on the desk, all but ripping his clothes. Once Anders was naked, Fenris immediately got to his knees licking at Anders’ cock happily, suckling at his skin before taking the length of him into his mouth. He wanted to _worship_ Anders, wanted to show him just how sorry he was for running away. 

“Oh shit, yes…!” Anders groaned, throwing his head back and fisting into Fenris’ hair. The past two weeks passed without any sort of fun; either he worked or was passed out, nothing in-between. The hot tongue on his cock felt wonderful-- as well as the feeling shimmering in his chest, the warmth pulsing in his stomach; the euphoria of a new love.

Fenris pulled one of Anders’ hands from his hair to tangle their fingers together, letting his eyes close as he focused on pleasing Anders. He ever so lightly scraped his teeth over the base of Anders’ cock, soothing it with his tongue before he took him into his mouth again, pressing down slowly until Anders was touching the back of his throat and he hummed, sucking hard as he pulled back before repeating it again. 

Anders’ back arched beautifully and he wasn’t holding his voice back, either; hopefully no-one lingered about, lest they thought the healer was in trouble. The paler-than-usual skin already gained a healthy rosy hue from arousal. Anders subtly rocked his hips; the movement wasn’t enough to choke Fenris but it still made the experience better. 

The healer let the treatment go on for a while, then stopped Fenris. “I don’t want to come. Not yet.” He licked his lips. “I want you to come all over me.” 

“Shall I come all over your cock, as a reminder of who it belongs to?” Fenris asked with a slight growl in his voice. “Or your chest? Or maybe this pretty face of yours. Where shall I come, Anders? Ask me nicely.”

Standing from his position on the floor, Fenris began to slowly unlace his leggings too, pulling off his tunic and dropping it to the floor. 

“You don’t have enough to cover me with it, unfortunately,” Anders said, his gaze almost scorching. “A pity, I’d really enjoy that. I’d love it if you dirtied me up. I guess my face will have to do.” He languidly slipped to the floor, sitting on his heels with his thighs spread wide, breathing through his mouth. “Mark me with your come. Spill it into my mouth and on my face.”

“Yeah? Shall I get it all over your lovely lips and then lick it off you?” Fenris said as he kicked his leggings off. He wrapped his hand around his hard cock and began to stroke slowly, teasing himself to build up to it. His other hand began to pull Anders hair back so it wouldn't get in the way. 

“That sounds divine,” Anders stuck his tongue out to lick the tip of the penis in front of him. “Then again… Do you like the thought of getting me dirty? Would it excite you to leave your mark on my chest and stomach and thighs and then some more?” He ran his hands up and down over Fenris’ thighs. “I might be able to help with that…”

“I do like that. I like making my already filthy mage even dirtier than he already is, making sure he knows who owns him. There's something I want to try,” Fenris said. “There's some things I need but it won't take long. Tomorrow night, come to the mansion.”

“Oh, a surprise!” Anders grinned, his fingers finding Fenris’ balls and rolling them. “I like that. I’ll be there. Should I strip as soon as I set foot in your house?” He leaned forward and replaced his fingers with his tongue.

Fenris groaned softly, hand speeding up a little. “No. I want to do it myself. Want your skin under my hands and I want to strip you a bit at a time until you're bare for me.”

”Aah. I see. I shall obey my beloved owner’s wishes.” Anders sucked the elf’s testicles into his mouth and splayed his hands over Fenris’ ass, to squeeze and knead the firm muscle mass. 

Fenris’ hips bucked into his hand and he swore quietly. Unable to hold back at his slow pace for any longer, he sped up. “Fuck, Anders…” Fenris groaned. “I missed this. I missed you…”

Anders rolled the jewels around with his tongue then let them go with an audible 'plop'. "Not as much as I missed you. "When I had no patients, I kept chopping up herbs and boiling elfroot, or writing, but I kept drifting off imagining where you are..." He kissed the skin where the pelvis merged into the thigh. "I stared at the pages but I only saw you getting tied up, tortured... Your old master _reclaiming his property_." He placed his hand on Fenris', stilling the hurried movements. "I missed your warmth." He began nibbling on the base of the elf's erection. "I missed your scent, your smooth skin. Your strong hands. Your soft hair. Your voice. Your laughter."

“You're the only one that makes me laugh,” Fenris breathed, hand releasing Anders’ hair to stroke his cheek. “I’m sorry I made you worry so much. I'm back now though. I'm here…”

“I want to feel it,” Anders breathed and dragged his tongue along the shaft, then opened his mouth wide and let Fenris’ cock slide down his throat. His left curled around the base, thumb gently massaging the balls, while his right began rubbing the elf’s perineum. The skilled fingers occasionally slipped, passing over Fenris’ hole, not trying to push inside, merely teasing. 

Fenris hissed in pleasure, hips jerking in surprise at the touch to his entrance. He was so close, he was almost-- He was almost there, and, _yes_! With a firm press against his perineum, Fenris was coming, pulling Anders off him just in time for his seed to hit the mage’s cheek and lips, dripping from his chin. 

Anders peered up at him with half-lidded eyes, his lips wide open and shining from saliva. Quite a decadent sight, especially when he caught a few drops of semen with his tongue and made a show of swallowing it, as if it was some decadent Orlaisian treat. His hands fell away from Fenris, between the long thighs were Anders’ erection diminished somewhat, but it still trembled with every beat of his heart.

Fenris pulled Anders to his feet and kissed him deeply, his hand wrapping around Anders’ cock again, stroking him firmly and with a twist of his wrist over the tip of him. 

“Good boy,” Fenris cooed softly as he moved his hand, sucking deep marks into Anders’ throat and ducking his head to bite gently at his nipples. “So good for me. My mage. My love. My amatus…”

Anders leaned on the elf’s shoulders, panting and whining from delight. He began kissing Fenris’ jaw and temples, smearing half-dry semen on him in the process but what did a little filth matter in moments like those? His blood was singing from the pleasure coursing through him, the strong hands pulled him closer to completion with every tug and Anders bit his lips and closed his eyes to be able to feel it better. He came without warning, with only a gasp, short nails drawing crescent marks into Fenris’ dark skin.

Fenris slowed his movements as he kissed Anders’ temple repeatedly, whispering, “Good boy,” over and over again into his hair. “You're so good. Did you like that?” Fenris asked with a soft smile, bringing both his hands up to stroke his thumbs over Anders’ cheekbones, kissing him softly on the lips. 

“It was fine,” Anders purred. “But you’re still broken, and I need to teach you how to talk to someone like they’re your equals.”

“Only ‘fine’?” Fenris asked with a grin. “I'll have to try harder next time. I may be broken but I know how to talk to people, Anders.” 

Fenris picked Anders up easily, his strength no match for Anders’ meager weight. Carrying him through the curtain into Anders’ private room, Fenris lay him out on the bed. 

“Then why do you insist on calling me a ‘good boy’? Anders inquired softly. “Isn’t that what Danarius used to call you?” He grabbed Fenris before the elf could have done anything extreme. “Keep calm, keep calm. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not that I hate it, it sounds wonderful when we’re playing but-- we’re not playing right now.”

Fenris relaxed slowly as Anders carried on talking. “I thought you liked it. I'll bear that in mind for next time. I don't… I don't know what to do, outside of sex,” Fenris admitted. “I've never… had anything like this. If that's what you want, I mean, it's fine if-- What do you want this to be?”

“I-- can’t say for sure,” Anders admitted, running his fingers through Fenris’ hair. “I don’t think anything needs to change. We’ll still go with Hawke. You still have the mansion, I still have the clinic. We don’t need to go to the Chantry and demand their blessings.” He laughed a little. “We’re still friends. And hopefully we’re still going to have sex and a lot of it, but let’s leave such pet names for the role games. When we act something out, they’re fine. When we’re just cuddling, endearments are fine. And when we’re out in public, with friends, just call me Anders or mage. I must admit, it lost its bite along the way. I like it when you call me mage.” He smooched the tip of Fenris’ nose.

“The others don’t know that you’re my lover,” Anders continued. “I didn’t want Varric and Isabela to bother you. They’re going to figure it out soon enough, but let’s keep it a secret as long as we can, hmm?” He nuzzled the elf, smiling. “A secret, just for us. Our little treasure.”

Fenris shuffled further onto the cot and pulled Anders on top of him, wrapping his arms around the mage. He kissed his cheek happily. 

“Our secret,” Fenris agreed in a soft voice with a little smile. He tucked a loose strand of Anders’ hair behind his ear. “My mage. Justice made me come tonight, you know?”

“He did?” Anders blinked. “When did he-- Ah, yes. When you just appeared at the door, I felt such a rush, I nearly fainted. Justice pulled me under for some rest. I woke on my cot in the morning, I didn’t think he was prancing around. I hope he had some fun.” He squinted at the elf. “You weren’t planning on seeing me?”

“I thought…” Fenris blushed slightly. “I thought you and Hawke were… I know you liked him. I didn't know how past tense that was. I didn't know what I was planning to do, in all honesty. I thought I'd hurt you more than you wanted. I thought I'd gone too far. I felt like-- I felt like I was becoming Danarius. It's stupid, I know.”

“Maybe. But I can see why it’d bother you so much.” Anders kissed the top of the white head, stroking the soft strands still. “Hawke was overprotective. Well-- not even that, he really thought someone was beating me. I told him that it was a lover and he accepted it, though indeed, not without some fuss. We did sleep together but that was all we did - sleeping. He’s still damn attractive. You needn’t worry though. I guess sleeping around is over. I will stop you if you hurt me too much and besides… why do you think I had the bruises in the first place? They reminded me of you. I’d have healed them immediately otherwise.”

“I need to remind myself of that,” Fenris said quietly to himself, trailing his fingertips over the bruise he'd left on Anders’ neck. “That you can heal yourself if you aren't happy with the marks I leave.”

Fenris was quiet for a few moments as he held Anders close and thought to himself. 

“I've never been someone’s lover before. Not in the way it counts,” Fenris murmured. “I like it.”

“I’m glad I’m your first,” Anders smiled widely. “Welcome to your new life.”


	9. Knots And Ties

Fenris was nervous. He'd left the clinic early this morning after an awful night’s sleep on the tiny cot that Anders called a bed. That hasn't dampened his mood though. He couldn't stop the wide smile that broke out onto his face whenever he thought of last night. Fenris’ heart was still singing when he thought of Anders’ blurted ‘I love you’ in the clinic last night, and their cuddles the whole night. It felt nice. It felt _good_. 

Now though, Fenris was preparing for Anders to turn up for his surprise. He had everything ready and hidden from sight so Anders wouldn't be any the wiser when he came in. He was pacing and trying to stop. Hopefully Anders would arrive soon. 

The healer, like most magic-wielding folk, arrived just when he meant to. Anders was undeniably excited, but all throughout the day, he focused on his work, tending to people and preparing medicines diligently. As the night descended, however, and the lantern was put out, it didn’t feel like something was ending; more like something was just starting. Anders took the hidden route to Hightown, heart beating a little faster. 

He was still a little confused about this… thing, between him and Fenris. He tried to deny it for so long, now he had some troubles accepting that his feelings did exist, and were returned. Anders shook the troubling thoughts off. Whatever it was, it felt wonderful, magical and he wanted to enjoy it as long as he was able. 

The other part of his excitement was Fenris’ promise of a surprise. Just what did that wicked elf had in mind? By the time Anders reached the mansion’s gate, his face was tinged with pink.

“Fenris!” he called out once he stepped into the hall. “I’m home!” He laughed to himself quietly; it was true, to a degree. 

Fenris chuckled, nerves settling as he heard Anders’ voice, his elven ears picking up the last little bit as well. 

“Home, is it now?” Fenris asked with a grin as he exited the bedroom, coming over to Anders to greet him with a kiss, soft and gentle. “I'm glad you're here. Are you hungry, thirsty?”

“Always,” Anders shrugged. “Warden appetite. I keep hoping that Hawke will take me with to some fancy noble soiree, so I could polish off the entire table.” He smooched Fenris. “For the love of the Maker and his Prophet, do not host one just for me. You don’t even have a regular income.”

“I have enough to spoil you. There's something I want to show you, we can eat afterwards. If you like it, I have an idea. If you don't…” Fenris shrugged and kissed Anders again. “Then we find something else. Come with me. Will you let me blindfold you?”

“Blindfolds?” Anders raised a brow, but a slow grin tugged on his lips. “I knew it was worth getting up today. “You can do that, yes.” He couldn’t help slipping his hand into Fenris’. Being unable to see, unable to sense threats was somewhat frightening; but exciting nonetheless. 

Fenris took hold of Anders’ hand and pulled him towards his bedroom - their bedroom. “If at any point you want me to stop, let me know. Say… ‘Templar’. That works, hardly something you'd say accidentally,” Fenris said with a slight grin. “You say that and I'll stop. Either we can stop altogether or we can just change things up. Okay?” 

Fenris pulled Anders to sit down on the bed with him and leaned close to kiss him slowly. He wanted to build up to it. 

“That depends on the situation; ‘griffon’ isn’t good enough for you anymore?” Anders chuckled but kissed back, enjoying the serene atmosphere. “Stop fretting. I’m a big boy, I can open my mouth if I’m uncomfortable. We had similar rules in the Circle.”

“I forgot about that. ‘Templar’ could be for when you really want to stop, ‘griffon’ is for slow down?” Fenris suggested, pulling Anders close and teasing his fingertips along the line of clasps holding his coat closed. 

“One of those will come to mind when needed,” Anders promised. He smoothed his palm on Fenris’ chin then slid it down on the wired body; over the column of the neck then the chest, briefly squeezing the muscles there, then lower and lower, over waist, hip and the thigh. Being able to go slow was still somewhat of a novelty, and Anders’ heart fluttered when he remembered that here, in a Hightown mansion, no-one would look for him. He was safe here, allowed to do whatever and how long he wanted. 

Fenris’ breath picked up under Anders’ touch, slightly shaky when he pulled away from their kiss for air. His hands came up to undress Anders slowly, kissing along his jaw and sucking lightly, not enough to leave a mark but enough to feel it. 

Anders tipped his head to the side with a sigh, exposing his neck to the tender touches. “You still need a safeword,” he mentioned. “It wouldn’t do if I pinned you to the bed and you panicked. Sometimes I think about doing things but I worry that you’d attempt to rip my heart out in sheer terror.”

Fenris paused to pull back. “I've never thought about that. What sort of things have you thought about doing?” Fenris asked curiously, continuing his mission of getting Anders naked. 

“Pinning you down and ravishing you,” Anders listed, leaning into Fenris’ hand. “Tying your hands above your head, having you on my table naked for, mmm, _examinations_. Doing things to you that will alter your body, sometimes with magic. You know… things I suspect-- someone else have done to you in the past…?”

“Yes,” Fenris said softly, leaning close to kiss Anders’ jaw again as he pushed the coat and tunic off Anders’ shoulders, running his hands over his bare chest. “I could… try, for you. Some of it, anyway. But another day. I have plans for tonight.”

“You’re so secretive,” Anders cooed, slipping his hand to the inner side of Fenris’ thigh and squeezing. “What do you have in mind?”

“It's a surprise,” Fenris laughed softly. “The whole point of a surprise is that you don't know about it. Close your eyes.”

Fenris stood then and gathered the blindfold. It was soft - suede, he was told - and thick so Anders wouldn't be able to see past it. With a soft word of warning, he wrapped the material around Anders’ head, tying it firmly in place. 

“Is that okay?”

Anders breathed a soft ‘oh’, running his fingertips over the material, then sought out Fenris with his hands, questing for the elf’s lips. Once he found and kissed them, Anders nodded. “I’m fine. Please continue.” He could feel Justice stirring inside, watching keenly, and it was reassuring. If anything went awfully wrong, the spirit was going to protect him. 

Fenris smiled and kissed Anders again before going to retrieve what he needed. 

The scarlet length of rope was long, long enough for what he had in mind, and probably more. He could improvise to use it all. Running the rope through his hands like he had before he'd bought it to test its softness, Fenris turned back to Anders. 

“Sit on your knees for me, pet,” Fenris said gently, stroking Anders’ side slowly while he held the rope in his other hand. 

Still having no idea what fate awaited him, Anders obeyed, giggling to himself. He kneeled on the floor, hands on his thighs, and he tipped his head up, trying to face Fenris, even though he couldn’t see him. “If my Master commands, I shall obey,” He said easily, enjoying the thrill of the situation.

Fenris chuckled but pulled Anders to his feet again. “No, on the bed. It'll be easier for both of us.” Once Anders was settled, Fenris began to prepare the rope, folding it in half to find the middle, which he draped over Anders’ neck, the centre of the rope lining up with his spine. Fenris made the knots quickly and with practiced ease; the first over Anders’ heart, and then around his torso twice to outline his breast before he tucked the rope through the first knot and began to repeat the pattern until he was low enough to tie a thick knot that would press firmly against Anders’ perineum, the two pieces of the rope coming up from either side of his cock to tie to the knot that sat between Anders’ sharp hip bones. 

The healer absolutely couldn’t place what was happening; he recognized the ropes on his skin, but not the method. His heart began to beat faster, his breathing speeding up a bit, but as the process wasn’t painful at all, he allowed it to continue. He wanted to ask Fenris what this was about but decided against it; he trusted the elf, Besides, as more and more rope curled around his body, it began to feel… nice. He wanted to see himself.

Fenris stepped back to admire his handiwork. He nodded to himself, satisfied. “Take my hands,” Fenris said, taking hold of Anders’ anyway. “You'll be able to walk just fine. It'll feel good, if anything. I'm going to put you in front of the mirror and then take off your blindfold.”

“Finally!” Anders huffed and stepped off the bed-- only to stumble just a little when the ropes tightened. They still weren’t painful, they didn’t rub him anywhere too much… but the entire network lay flat against his skin and with every step, there was a subtle pressure behind his testicles. 

“That feels… new!” Anders gasped, unable to keep his hand from running along the ropes, trying to see without eyes. “Quick, I want to know what you did to me!”

Fenris laughed and pulled Anders over to the large floor-length mirror in the corner of the room that Fenris had never bothered getting rid of. Now though, he was glad he hadn't. Slowly, Fenris undid the blindfold and let Anders see himself, standing a little behind him nervously. 

Anders blinked, then his eyes widened as he stared at his reflection. This was undoubtedly new. The blood red lines stood out starkly against his pale skin, curling around his body, almost like markings. Anders swallowed and blushed, especially when he saw his cock twitch and beginning to rise slowly.

“Th-that’s… amazing,” Anders whispered, searching for Fenris’ eyes in the mirror. “It looks-- I-- don’t even know.” He traced the ropes hugging his chest, down to his stomach and over his hips. “It’s like clothes, but they aren’t-- What even is this?! Where did you learn this?”

“I can't remember the name for it. The Fog Warriors taught me. It was originally Qunari ritual wear, but the Fog Warriors adapted it to suit their own purposes and rituals. Some used it for pleasure,” Fenris explained, happy that Anders was enjoying the ropework. “You can wear it under your clothes too. Perhaps I should make you go to the clinic with this under your robes.”

Anders blushed deeper, and slipped a hand between his thighs, to feel the knot pressing against him. “I’m-- sure I can even sleep in this. Right? I could wear it for days, constantly reminded that I belong to you. Bless your old friends and their rituals. See what it does to me?” He rubbed his half-hard erection. “What if people notice? Can you tie someone up but-- tighter? Was it ever done to you? Maker, you’d look divine with something like this…”

“I can tie your arms behind your back,” Fenris said, demonstrating as he pulled Anders’ forearms behind him carefully. “I can tie your thighs to your calves, or your wrists to your ankles behind you. It also provides a wonderful handle.” Fenris took hold of one of the pairs of rope behind Anders’ back and tugged to pull the mage flush against him. “It was done to me, once. Just like this though, no binding.”

“I very much don’t mind you tying me up like this,” Anders declared. He moved a little, delighted to feel the ropes against his skin. “You could grab someone like this and hang them up on a hook,” he mused. “I like what you described. I wouldn’t be able to lift a finger, right? Completely at your mercy.” He was grinning, teeth worrying over his lower lip. “It looks so-- savage. I love it. Too bad I can’t do this, I’d love to see you in a similar… outfit.”

“I can do it to myself,” Fenris said softly. “I could teach you. I wouldn't mind if it was you… Is this tight enough, too tight? I can adjust it if you need. I always thought it was beautiful. Some designs are… breathtaking. I shall try and remember some more to try on you. Or me, if you wished.”

“I’d love to see that,” Anders nodded eagerly. “I’m fine, and-- I’m keeping it, as you requested.” He lowered his eyes bashfully and shuffled closer to Fenris. “Do I look as good with them as you expected?”

“You look beautiful,” Fenris said with a smile, wrapping his arms around Anders to pull him close, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “More beautiful than you already are, which is very. I can do it again for you in the morning if you'd prefer, I'm not sure how comfortable it is to sleep in. It's up to you.”

“Oh, that sounds good,” Anders agreed. “I’ll just deal with the hard-on. Buut, you know, I have a hard-on right now, and I hope you intend to do something about it. I mean, you have a lot of rope, a blindfold, and an eager lover, it’d be a sin to let all of that go to waste, no?”

Fenris chuckled softly. “I think it would be. Luckily, I don't intend to let the opportunity pass by,” Fenris purred. He took hold of the blindfold again and tied it carefully around Anders’ neck, finishing it with a bow in the hollow of his throat. “My little kitten has a soft little collar.”

“Is that what we’re doing?” Anders inquired in a whisper. “Me being your kitty?”

Fenris hummed softly, his hand curled into the ropes crossing over Anders’ back and tugged as he moved back towards the bed. Fenris turned them, making Anders fall onto the bed on his front. He knelt beside Anders one hand on the back of his neck to hold him down against the bed. 

“Maybe not my kitty tonight,” Fenris mused, leaning closer to nip at Anders’ ear before whispering against it, “Maybe just my little whore of a mage.”

“You’ve got to try harder than that,” Anders hissed with delight. “You can’t fuck a mage if they don’t want to be fucked. As long as we can do magic--” he wiggled his fingers, “you can’t make a mage into some fucktoy. Shall we fight?”

Fenris spanked Anders hard all of a sudden and used his surprise to drag Anders’ hands up to the headboard, making him hold it. 

“Are you talking back, mage?” Fenris growled. “Because I can tie you up and wring you out until you're crying and whimpering with pleasure and you'd _like_ it, because you're a little slut.”

“You’re welcome to try!” Anders shot back immediately, while his fingers hooked into the wooden frame. “Do you think I’ll break and bow to you? Never! You won’t hear me beg, mostly because you’re not man enough to do anything to me. Hah! Do your worst, I’ll let you strike first!”

Fenris was up and back again within a moment, two shorter lengths of the same red rope in his hands. He securely bound one of Anders’ wrists before attaching it to the bedpost, the slack nearly taut so there was no escape. Fenris repeated the process with the other arm. He retrieved a simple gag too, from the small chest that he'd decided to keep these things in. 

Slowly, Fenris began to undo the makeshift collar around Anders’ neck, tutting softly. “If my little pet doesn't want to behave, I'm afraid he isn't worthy of my collar. If at any time you want to stop, knock on the headboard three times,” he added quietly before gagging Anders tightly, although not enough to hurt. 

Anders seemed a little surprised - he wasn't counting on the gag - but protesting was far from his mind. He tried the restraints, careful not to hurt himself and glared daggers at Fenris as if he were upset. In reality, it just made him excited. The ropes and restraints were definitely new territory. He have heard of them but never had the chance to try it, and now, experiencing them firsthand, Anders decided that he loved it. Part of the thrill was of course Fenris’ presence, but that hardly was an issue. 

“Now that I've got my lovely little mage all tied up, what shall I do with him?” Fenris asked as he retrieved the oil, undressing quickly and ditching his clothes on the floor. He slowly coated the fingers of one hand, running his dry fingers down the line of Anders’ spine until he reached the cleft of his rear. He spanked him suddenly again, hard enough to leave a red handprint, at the same time as he pushed two fingers into Anders’ hole. 

With a muffled cry, Anders arched off from the bed. The pain he felt came from the slap though; the fingers felt nice, stretching him. However, since they were playing, he continued acting, glaring over his shoulder and wiggling his backside, trying to get away. 

Fenris grinned and chuckled, grabbing hold of the rope on either of Anders’ hips and pulling him close. 

“Keep this lovely little ass of yours _still_ ,” Fenris growled, biting at Anders’ ear as he pushed his fingers back in, curling them to tug at Anders’ rim. 

Anders whined; when the ropes were pulled, the conveniently placed hard knot pressed down, sending a jolt of pleasure through him. Maker bless whoever invented the clever usage of ropes, regardless of their species. He wanted to feel it again, he just wanted to feel the chords biting into him, he wanted to _feel_ , pain and pleasure alike. So he kept wiggling. Mages weren’t sluts, after all. Well alright, most of them were, but they weren’t fond of being called that in the face.

Fenris spanked Anders again, leaving his fingers in him as he grabbed the rope between his shoulder blades and pulled again, tightening it temporarily around the rest of Anders’ body. 

“Do you like that?” Fenris purred, tugging the rope against as he pressed against the knot with his thumb. 

Anders squirmed and cried out, glad for the gag; he didn’t have to hold back the slightest. Part of his brain launched into speculations what would happen if the pull was constant and even harder, for example, if the tied up person would be suspended, their own weight pulling them down… If that wasn’t a thing, it should be. 

After a brief inner debate, Anders peered at Fenris and gave him a small nod.

“Maybe I'll have to make it tighter next time, so you can feel it with every breath,” Fenris said, circling his fingers slowly to make room for a third. He wanted Anders to beg behind his gag and cry for more. His movements were slow, barely there, brushing so lightly over his prostate that the only stimulation he got to it was from the knotted rope. 

Even with the gag, Anders whined beautifully, squirming restlessly, trying to get more of the wonderful sensations. It was of no use; all he achieved with that were several slaps on his rear. 

“The way you're going, pet, I'm almost beginning to think you _like_ being spanked,” Fenris teased with a grin. “Maybe I should find other ways to punish you. Maybe I should clamp your nipples and pull you around by them. It'd be better than a leash, wouldn't it?” 

Anders closed his eyes as his overactive imagination helpfully supplied the images. His cock, fully erect by now, twitched at the thought, reminding him that he wanted release. So Anders stilled, relaxing his body, though he still trembled subtly from want and stared at Fenris intently, waiting to be addressed. 

“Maybe I should put little rings in your nipples so I can twist and pull them until you cry,” Fenris purred, pinching one of Anders’ nipples and twisting it sharply while he thrust his fingers in hard, aiming straight for Anders’ prostate. 

Anders cried out, back arching. He squeezed his eyes shut and bit down on the gag. He was getting a little short on air, but he couldn’t care, not when his mind was occupied, both with the pleasure Fenris was giving him, and the absolutely sinful images. Sometimes it scared him a little how ready he was to consider things that brought pain.

“I should make you wear your tail and use your nipples as a leash, make you my kitty. Do you think our friends would like to come by and meet my little kitty? Watch you become my pet and submit? Would you feel _ashamed_ , if they knew just how much of a whore you were?” Fenris asked, continuing the slow thrusts of his fingers. 

Anders was all but crying, face hidden by his arms, breath hitching with soft sobs. Just the words, the images made him painfully hard. Fenris was reciting all the healer’s most perverted fantasies; there was a downside to having friends who were all gorgeous on their own right. Anders curled up as much as he could and flinched a little with every thrust. Despite the gag, he tried to talk, to beg for the torture to end.

“Do you want me to stop, Anders? Do you want me to fuck you and put an end to your misery?” Fenris asked, chuckling deep in his throat. “You'd be powerless to stop me if I wanted to carry on though, tied up as you are. Mine, and here of your own free will. Do you know how hard that makes me, knowing that you _want_ to be owned by me?”

‘Yes, I want to know, please tell me, show me’, Anders thought, but he was indeed in no position to respond. He could barely swallow as it were; the gag was soaked with saliva. He just stared at Fenris pleadingly, eyes like liquid gold, glazed with lust

“Every time I think about it, and all the things I want to do to you, I get so hard and it doesn't go away unless I touch myself. Unless I think of you and your lovely moans and your wonderful whimpers. Of the way you beg me to fuck you,” Fenris murmured, reaching for the oil again and making a show of wetting his cock. 

Anders have heard a few heartfelt confessions in his time, but none of those managed to have the same effect Fenris’ had. It plunged sharp claws into his stomach, squeezed his innards and pulled, and it was so good, better than anything. Not taking his feverish eyes off his master, Anders managed to lift his ass, presenting himself to the elf like some animal in heat.

“Good boy,” Fenris said softly, hesitating when he remembered what Anders had said about that, but they were playing now. Slowly, Fenris withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his cock, pushing forward slowly. “See what it's like when you behave? See how good I can make you feel?” Fenris tugged on the ropes as well, wanting Anders to associate the press of them against his skin with pleasure so that whenever he wore the harness he would think of this moment. 

The delighted whine it earned him was worth all the trouble. Anders tossed his head back and moaned deeply, loving every single sensation assaulting him, the steady pressure in his rear, the ropes digging into his skin, and Fenris’ warm body covering his. His mind quieted, shutting off most conscious thought but letting loose the instincts and it felt good to, to not have to think, plan, organize, analyze and worry. In this bubble of safety, Anders could finally truly relax. 

Fenris leaned down to kiss over Anders’ skin between the criss-crossing of the rope as he started to move slowly, his hips rolling in a steady, even rhythm. Fenris moved his mouth to Anders’ throat and started to suck firmly wherever he could; behind his ear, over the bumps of his spine, over the artery in his neck, anywhere he could leave a dark possessive mark so that no one else would even try to touch his mage. His lover. 

The pale body was like clay under his own. Anders breathed deeply, shoulders rising and falling steadily and his soft moans didn’t stop, though they sometimes rose in volume when a firmer bite was laid on him. His frame rippled like water, softly undulating underneath Fenris, offering no resistance at all. His erection strained against the sheets, the constant friction and the rhythmical pressure against his prostate keeping him on the edge. 

The rough friction of the two pieces of rope that came up the crack of Anders’ ass felt so good on Fenris’ cock. This rope was softer than normal rope so it wasn't abrasive, and it was driving Fenris closer and closer to his orgasm but he wanted to see Anders come, especially with how relaxed the mage was. 

“Come for me now, pet,” Fenris purred in Anders’ ear, pulling the ropes taut again. “Come for me, amatus.”

In his own little world, time ceased to have a meaning for Anders. He heard Fenris’ words and rose to obey them, but at the same time, he could feel something welling up inside him; a presence, occupying the same space as his consciousness. He didn’t need to ask what it meant. He didn’t have the time to panic, either, because warmth and peace spread out inside him, soothing his mind, cradling him close. 

“Anders…” Justice’s voice, Kristoff’s voice, the softer, more human voice whispered into his ear, “Anders, my beloved mortal. I’m so proud of you. Forgive me.”

Anders could feel the spirit everywhere: in his bloodstream, his muscles, glimmering energy filling up his stomach, his lungs, curling around his heart protectively. He felt like bursting, but it was a good feeling and Justice pulsed in time with his heartbeat and in time of Fenris’ thrusts and Anders couldn’t take it anymore. His body tensed up in a graceful arch and he came with a desperate cry, harder than ever. Underneath his skin, his nerves lit up for a moment, then everything quieted and Anders saw wrapped up in that soft, warm cocoon of peace and security again, like a child in its mother’s womb.

Fenris cried out in surprise when Justice’s blue sparks shot across Anders’ skin but there was no time to consider it or think about it as Anders’ orgasm and cry pulled Fenris over the edge with him. His hips jerked in little abortive thrusts as he worked himself through his orgasm, panting heavily. After a few long moments, Fenris pulled out slowly, taking a moment to admire the redness on Anders’ rear from where he'd been spanking him. Carefully, Fenris undid the gag and set it aside, reaching to the bedposts to release Anders from his bonds. When Anders’ wrists were free, Fenris rolled him over and stroked his hair aside. 

“Anders?” he asked softly, continuing to stroke over the mage’s hair. 

There was no reply at first; the healer’s eyes were half-lidded and vacant, his lips parted, body nearly entirely limp. He managed to turn his head to Fenris’ direction, at least. “Master…? He breathed, uncertain. 

“Just Fenris now,” Fenris said with a small smile. “You did very well. Did you enjoy yourself? I did.” He kissed Anders’ forehead and knelt up a little more. “I'm going to get you something to drink, I'll be right back, okay?”

“Okay…” Reality was seeping back, and Anders wasn’t entirely happy about it, but his rational mind was reminding him quietly that he can’t stay locked up in his own mind forever. The waking world wasn’t such a bad place, at least not right now, on a lover’s bed, the embers of pleasure still glowing dimly in his blood. There was also a hot, throbbing sensation around the pit of his stomach and Anders’ hand crept there to cover it. In his wrists, the ropes left red marks.

Fenris returned swiftly with a cup of water and smiled as he sat beside Anders on the bed. “Sit up for me and drink this. Little sips.” He helped Anders drink the water, setting the cup down on the side table when he'd had enough. “Okay? Do you want me to take this rope off? I can always put it back on you in the morning.”

Anders just reached out and tugged Fenris close, curling up against him like a frightened child. 

Fenris froze momentarily in surprise before he realised why Anders was acting this way. He smiled softly and pulled the mage into his lap, cradling him close and rocking him slowly. 

“My Anders,” Fenris said fondly. “My lovely mage. You did so well, I love you. Te amo,” he whispered, kissing Anders’ hair, the Tevene making it easier to express his feelings because he knew Anders didn't know much of it. 

The honey eyes cleared up quickly, the reassurances did their job. Anders sneaked his arms around Fenris and took a deep breath. “I… I don’t know what happened,” he admitted reluctantly. “Not exactly. I don’t know how to feel about it.” He looked up, hoping Fenris had an explanation.

“It's okay. It's a… feeling you get sometimes when you become overwhelmed. I'm not sure how to describe it. I always felt like I was floating on clouds,” Fenris said, continuing to stroke Anders’ side. “Danarius used it as a way to manipulate me into trusting him. Do you want me to take this rope off you or are you okay?”

”A little later… I’m fine for now,” Anders smiled. “It was-- the best thing I’ve ever felt. It was so warm and secure, like a dream, but I could still move and feel you and hear you, but-- I was also far away, just-- floating, yes.” He worried his teeth over his lower lip. “Thinking back, it’s a little scary.”

“You're safe here with me,” Fenris said with a smile, kissing the top of Anders’ head. “I can try not to put you under again but it's difficult to control. Just know that I'll keep you safe while you're there. You like the rope, then?” Fenris grinned widely. 

“Let’s concentrate on one problem at a time,” Anders pleaded. “I-- don’t mind to-- being like that. It felt fantastic, it was so relaxing, my mind just shut off and it was great, I just-- hardly ever do that. I’m the kind of guy who uses their brains, you know. But being so vulnerable, with all my defenses down, I--” His eyes widened. “Justice. Justice-- spoke to me. I could feel him, inside me, everywhere, literally everywhere and we could-- w-we could talk.” His eyes welled up. To be able to communicate with the spirit, it was something he always wanted to do. 

“You were glowing so I thought something was happening,” Fenris said, kissing over his face and hair. “It's okay. We can find a way for you two to talk properly. We’ll figure it out, don't cry, Anders.” He wiped away Anders’ tears with his thumb. “Don't cry. We’ll sort something out. Deep breaths, it's okay…”

“I’m fine!” Anders insisted. “I’m happy! We could never talk, and-- He told me he was proud of me. You have no idea how much that means to me! For so long, I thought he hated me for getting trapped in here, for getting poisoned by my hatred and anger, but he doesn’t.” Anders cupped Fenris’ face with both hands. “Thank you for making it possible.” He kissed the elf with fervent gratitude.

Fenris kissed Anders back happily, tightening his grip on the mage to hold him even closer than he already was, the rope pressing into his skin. 

“Are you hungry, thirsty? Because if you don't say so now, I'm liable to lie here kissing you for the rest of the night,” Fenris said with a teasing grin. 

“I’m not going to object to a dinner,” Anders laughed. “Neither to staying here for the night. And I can deal with the ropes for a little while longer.”

Fenris got Anders some food and fed him happily, pulling off bits of the bread and feeding them to the mage one at a time. When Anders was full, Fenris pulled him into his arms again and cuddled against him, running his hand up and down Anders’ side slowly. 

The healer was all but glowing and purring contentedly, his system starting to wind down for a rest. He gave up hoping for such bliss, and that it was thrown at him still was making him giddy. 

Using the contented state of his host, Justice carefully eased himself to the front, brushing ghost-fingers against Anders’ consciousness as he emerged. He carefully disentangled himself from Fenris’ arms, sat up straight and bowed his head. “I’d like to thank you for caring so much for Anders. You’ve proven yourself worthy of being his companion.” 

“I'm glad you approve,” Fenris said, watching Justice carefully, although not with suspicion as he once would have. “I enjoy taking care of him, and caring for him emotionally. I… I know I'm not an ideal lover or… partner, not with Danarius still alive, but I'm grateful that Anders doesn't mind that. And I'll happily kill any Templars that so much as look at him wrong.”

“Something about different types of chains,” Justice mused with a tiny smile. “Or ropes, as it is. Don’t worry much about your former master. We’ll lend our support if he turns up to lay claim on things that never should have been his.”

Fenris was silent for a moment and looked away as he tried to come up with a way to respond. Instead, he simply said, “Thank you. I… Thank you. I should take those ropes off Anders. I doubt they'll be comfortable to sleep in,” he added, trying to change the subject. 

“You’ll have to put them back in the morning,” Justice mentioned. “He loves your ideas. I still cannot fathom why, but these actions make him happy.” He hesitated, subtle changes in his posture indicating the notion. “I-- have a request. You’re free to deny it, no harm will befall on you.”

“Ask, then,” Fenris said cautiously. He didn't doubt that Justice would let him say no without consequence but he couldn't help being wary of the question. 

“Please allow me to touch you.” The spirit’s voice was a little less otherwordly now, but more quiet and respectful. “I had a meager few chances to touch people since I entered this world. When I’m in charge, Anders cannot consent, and it doesn’t feel respectful to try.”

Fenris blinked in shock. He didn't know what he'd been expecting but that certainly wasn't it. “Touch… T-Touch where?” Fenris asked, fingers fidgeting nervously as he glanced up at Justice briefly before looking away again. 

“Wherever you allow,” the spirit clarified. “I do not wish to indulge into anything inappropriate, I’d merely like to feel skin under my fingertips. Your hands are fine. Lower arms… Anything that doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable.”

“I… You can touch my arms,” Fenris said. “Maybe-- Maybe more, if, uh… Just arms for now. Would you like to lie down? I'm tired. You may continue to touch once I'm asleep, if you swear to go no further.”

Justice’s brown furrowed. “How do you consent when not entirely conscious? Also, if you wish to rest, undo the ropes now. Perhaps-- I should ask another time.”

“How about… I undo the ropes and lie down, and then you can touch me until I go to sleep?” Fenris suggested, admitting to himself that he was curious what it would feel like to have a spirit touch his lyrium brands. He was grateful that Justice cared though, even if it was… odd, and made him feel guilty again for all the things he'd ever said about Anders and Justice. 

“That sounds fair,” Justice nodded. “They create interesting sensations.” He rolled his shoulder, looking over the body he occupied. “Please go ahead. I think I’ll benefit from this experience.”

Fenris knelt up and shuffled closer, blushing slightly as he reached out to the spirit to undo the knot at his belly button, letting the rope fall from between Justice’s legs and pulling the rope round to the front, undoing the knot there before repeating it over and over until he lifted the rope from over the top of Justice’s head. 

“There,” Fenris said quietly, folding the rope up and throwing it back towards its drawer. 

The spirit stirred now and then but otherwise kept still during the process. Once he was free, he slowly stretched, movement careful enough to make Fenris think it was more about testing the flesh and bone body instead of loosening muscles. “Thank you,” he murmured and he gestured to the bed. “Please, make yourself comfortable. I will not bother you for long.”

Fenris lay down on his side of the bed, pulling the covers over himself and getting comfortable while he thought about just how insane he was for considering this, let alone going through with it. Once he was in a position he liked, he reached out his arm for Justice to touch. 

The spirit all but lounged beside him, like a big hunter cat from Seheron. It was interesting to compare how the same body looked different depending on who occupied it. Anders moved with a casual grace most of the time, relaxed even despite his slightly hunched shoulders - a result of poring over herbs, books and manifestos well into the night as well as trying to look less suspicious to anyone. Justice on the other hand was always battle-ready, rigid but his movements still fluid, like a seasoned warrior’s. 

Justice slowly reached out, to rest his fingertips on the back of Fenris’ hand, carefully avoiding the lyrium lines at first. His touch was tentative, as if he worried that some harm could be caused for either of them. He trailed up on the side of Fenris’ hand, to his wrist, slipping to the tender inner side and pausing there.

“You can touch the lyrium. I know you're curious,” Fenris said quietly, watching Justice touch him. It was so odd how even the touch felt different than when Anders’ touched him. There wasn't any one thing that was different, it just… was. Exhaustion from tonight and the buildup of the last few weeks had Fenris’ eyes soon dipping as he continued to watch. 

Justice nodded and his questing fingers slipped to the faintly glowing lines. The lyrium immediately flared, reacting to the presence of the Fade’s raw power.

Fenris gasped in surprise at the surge, eyes flying open and sleep falling away from him. He watched his lyrium react to the spirit’s touch in soft throbs of the bright glow. 

“Justice…” Fenris breathed softly. 

“Is it too much?” the spirit inquired, moving subtly to he was only touching the very edge of the lines. “I-- your markings are wonderful.”

“No, it feels… It feels good,” Fenris admitted reluctantly, his cheeks burning red. “The lyrium in them, it-- I feel it reaching out. For you.”

“Do stop me if it hurts. Anders would never forgive me if I damaged his lover.” With a hint of a smile, Justice laid his hand on Fenris’ forearm, where the lines curled around the flesh and began to pet them, with something akin to awe settling on his features. He subtly moved closer and closer, drawn in by the light. 

“It sings beautifully,” he remarked quietly. “It has such power, but it’s carefully restrained… just like you, Fenris.”

Fenris’ flush darkened further at the compliment and he wasn't quite sure how to respond. Having a spirit all but… _flirt_ with him was an entirely new experience, and he couldn't help but think that the smile looked good on Justice’s face. So he said that. 

“You should smile more often. It makes you look less serious,” Fenris murmured. 

The spirit blinked. “This is Anders’ face, I suppose you like when he smiles, that’s all. I’m a spirit. We find it hard to grasp such concepts.” He sounded a little defensive though, almost as if he had been ashamed for being caught doing something he shouldn't have. His fingers found the point where the lines on Fenris’ palm ran together and drew slow circles over it. 

Fenris gasped slightly at the touch, drawing his lower lip between his teeth. “No, it's not-- It’s not that. You and Anders are different. Even if I didn't know it, I can feel it, see it. Anders’ smiles are beautiful, yours are… different,” Fenris finished lamely, wishing he'd not said anything to begin with. 

“I know my presence complicates things,” Justice admitted. “But I cannot change anything. I want Anders to be happy, he’s special. He trusted me the same way he trusts you, with his body, with his life. I’d like us to be on good terms, for his sake.”

“While you're here, I'd like to… apologise for all the things I've ever said. They were cruel and unnecessary. It doesn't pardon it, but… I enjoyed knowing I could argue without consequence, without punishment,” Fenris explained. 

“Apology accepted,” the spirit nodded. “Your words were hurtful, but you’re a warrior; you cut where it hurts most. I have to admit… I was not always showing my best qualities. There’s something--” He seemed to drift off for a moment. “There’s something here, in Kirkwall that bothers me greatly. It’s everywhere… It’s not good for anyone. But we still have to stay, to complete this mission. If you see me doing something unworthy of me… do speak up.”

“As you wish,” Fenris said quietly, slightly worried about what Justice thought he would be doing that was unworthy. “I'm going to sleep now. You can keep going until I'm asleep.”

“I’m sure you’d rather sleep with Anders present; there’s one thing I’d like to try before giving him back to you.” Justice took hold of Fenris’ hand and gently pulled it to his face. His lips brushed against the lyrium marks--

The next moment, he dropped the tattooed appendage, rearing back with a gasp and rubbing at his mouth with the back of his hand.

There was no denying the twist of pleasure of Fenris’ gut as his eyes widened in surprise when Justice kissed his hand. The spirit’s Fade essence jolted into his lyrium, making it tingle and spark all over his body. 

“I… Good night,” Fenris said quickly, rolling over with trembling hands and pulling the covers up over him. 

He could feel Justice shifting behind him joining him under to covers but as soon as a hand curled around his waist, it was Anders’ warm, familiar body snuggling up him.


	10. Fun And Fancy 1

The tunnel that led to Hightown was a carefully guarded secret. Anders kept the key close to his heart, literally and figuratively; he hardly parted from it. As he rushed upwards on the stairs, cradling a precisely wrapped bundle to his chest, he found himself stopping from time to time and listening for anything unusual. 

This was ridiculous, he kept telling himself, it wasn’t like he was stealing children or something! He was just en route to meet his lover. Who will no doubt appreciate the package’s contents, once they were properly applied. Anders chuckled to himself as he continued his way. Securing the goods cost him a few rather embarrassing moments, but it was worth all the trouble. 

He still took a deep breath as he entered the mansion. As he rushed to find the elf, Anders took notice of the increasing order and cleanness. He stopped at a section of the hall, where the floortiles were newly laid, the broken ones replaced. At this rate, the mansion was going to be a pleasant place by next Satinalia. 

“Fenris? Maker, you need a bell or a servant to announce your visitors.”

Fenris yelped in surprise when he heard Anders voice so close and stuffed his hands into the box in front of him, hiding the object in his hands. Anders wasn't supposed to be back for another hour yet! Or-- Or maybe he was and Fenris had lost track of the time. Either way, Fenris moved quickly, shoving the box behind him on the bed, cheeks a slight red. 

“I won't hire a servant, mage,” Fenris grumbled, the word becoming less and less of an insult every single day. “And the only _visitor_ I get is Hawke.”

“Whatever you classify me as, I still have to yell for you every time I come here,” Anders pointed out. “And I come here a lot. I see you’ve taken up masonry. Not having to stumble on your floor is a huge improvement.” He stepped closer and smooched Fenris on the lips. “Evening, love.” 

“You're my Anders,” Fenris said, returning the kiss happily. “That's what I classify you as. You don't need to shout. This is a home to you. If you wish it to be, that is,” he added quickly, glancing curiously at the package in Anders’ grip. “I thought you'd appreciate not falling over when you entered the mansion.” 

“I definitely do,” Anders beamed. “Make sure to renovate a room for me. As much as I like you, I don’t want to sit on your head all the time. Since you just offered that I could move in.” He paused and caressed Fenris’ face with the back of his fingers. “Aren’t you afraid of the consequences? Others will find it out. You’ll be housing a possessed apostate.”

“And what better company is there for a runaway slave?” Fenris asked with a soft smile, cupping Anders’ face and pulling him into a kiss. The mage, by some miracle, was clean-shaved, and the skin held a faint pleasant woody scent. “I love you. And, uh… I have a gift for you, if you want it.”

“I’ve never said no to one!” Anders grinned. “I also have something… not quite a gift, but I think you won’t be opposed to it.” He lifted the package a little. “Let’s go and surprise each other then!”

Fenris reached behind him to lift the thin, flat box. It contained a dark blue corset that would offset Anders’ skin beautifully, and a collection of lacy underthings in various colours. It had taken Fenris a while to build up the courage to order a corset for Anders. And when he _was_ brave enough, he realised he didn't know where to get it from. That had ended in a trip to the Blooming Rose to talk to Jethann, who winked pointedly at him whenever Hawke dragged them in there for a job of some sorts. 

Now he was blushing as he waited for Anders to take the box, taking Anders’ package in return. 

“Careful, some of the things in there are fragile,” Anders warned. He made short work of the box and as soon as the contents were revealed, he flushed to a fetching salmon shade. He ran his long fingers over the corset then picked up the silk panties and bit his lower lip, his grin widening. “Andraste’s rosy tits,” he mumbled, “I can’t believe you actually got these…!”

Fenris blushed a little more and smiled. “You like them?” he asked nervously. “I wasn't sure what colour you liked so… I went with blue. I think it would look… nice on you.”

Fenris settled on the bed and opened the package carefully, eyes widening as he touched the material. 

The carefully folded fabric cradled three potion bottles, and there was a small box in the package, too. Upon closer inspection, the fabric turned out to be a dress, obviously not made for Fenris’ strong but relatively short frame. The box contained items that took the elf a moment to recognize: common make-up accessories, like lip blush and kohl stick, along with a pair of earrings. They weren’t made from precious metal, but they were polished to a perfect shine.

“Anders…” Fenris breathed softly, looking up at the mage briefly. He carefully set the makeup aside and pulled the bodice of the dress up so he could see it. The thought of Anders in it had his cock twitching in his leggings. “Fuck… Anders, you really-- You… want to wear this? For me?”

“For myself, in the first place,” Anders corrected, but he kneeled in front of Fenris. “However, the thought of being your lovely escort is still making me squirm with joy. Dresses or robes, there isn’t that much of a difference, and I spent the better part of my life wearing robes. Really dressing up as a lady though… that’s exciting.” He batted his eyelashes. “Tomorrow’s a Chantry holiday, one that’s about quiet contemplation. There’s going to be a long service and most people will stay home afterwards. The weather has been warming up steadily, my contacts promised no rain, so… I say it’d be amazing to take a stroll through Hightown, don’t you agree, serah Fenris?” 

“With you in this? My, my, Anders. I didn't know you were so devious,” Fenris chuckled, leaning down to kiss Anders teasingly, barely ghosting his lips over Anders’. “That's a lie. I know just how filthy you are. But if the weather’s good and my darling desires to stroll through Hightown, I suppose we’ll have to, won't we?” 

Fenris grinned and set the package aside, lifting Anders up to sit the mage in his lap. He lay down and pulled on Anders so he was straddling him. 

“But tonight… I want to see you in this,” Fenris said, touching the corset lightly. “In return, I could… Tie ropes around myself, like I did to you…”

“I dare to think about what you’re going to come up with for my Satinalia gift!” Anders giggled. “We have a deal! I’d like to try on the dress, too, the girls helped me last time but I need to be able to get into it on my own, too. Oh, and I meant to ask, can you tie up someone really securely and then… just hang them up? I don’t know, on a pole, like hunters do with the game, or on a hook?”

“I don't see why not,” Fenris said, rubbing his thumbs over Anders’ hipbones. “You'd have to spread the weight on the ropes but… It would be doable, I suppose. You'd need a very secure point. Why, is that something you want? Why don't you try your dress on now then I can get you into your corset and, uh, maybe some of those panties?”

“I am not very well-versed on female clothing, but I think corsets are underwear…?” Anders frowned in thought. He leaned down, resting his weight on his elbows while his hands covered Fenris’ collarbone. “I also remembered something… I mentioned that there are ways to alter the body temporarily, aaand-- I’ve been experimenting. By now, I’m fairly sure I can fill out that corset, if you know what I mean.” He blushed. “If you don’t think it’s too weird and unnatural.”

“If I wanted to hide the corset under your clothes, I wouldn't have bought such a beautiful one. I want you to wear it while I fuck you,” Fenris admitted, leaning up to kiss Anders, his hands moving from Anders’ hips to his back. “You mean-- I… don't think that's too weird or unnatural.”

“A sure sign that you’re as gone as I am,” Anders teased. “Perfect. I wasn’t planning on getting on with it tonight, but you definitely won’t hear me complaining.” He climbed off Fenris and began to undress. “If I can pull it off right, it probably won’t be that strange,” he mused. “We’ll just have to see!” 

Soon enough, Anders’ clothes lay piled up on the end of the bed and he stood naked in front of Fenris. Apparently, he made good use of the razor; his chest had always been hairless but now, his legs were smooth as well. Anders reached for the dress, then hesitated. “Some bosom would add to the image, so- I can use the spell. Would you… like to watch?”

Fenris nodded hesitantly as he sat up, lyrium tingling in anticipation of feeling Anders’ magic in the room. That was a new reaction, which Fenris decided to completely ignore in favour of the naked mage in front of him. 

Anders settled atop the bed, sitting on his heels. He looked a little embarrassed, but called for his magic regardless; the faint prickling in the air could be felt a moment before the faint light of the spell began to glow on his fingertips. Anders placed his hands on his chest and closed his eyes to concentrate better. The light flared under his palm, tendrils creeping out from the middle to draw an elaborate pattern seemingly just beneath the skin, thin likes branching out like the roots of a tree. Anders began to move his hands in small, slow circles, fingers massaging his flesh. The change was subtle, but as the moments passed, it became more noticeable. 

Fenris watched as Anders’ normally flat chest produced breasts, not overly large but enough to fill Fenris’ hands from the look of them, something Fenris was eager to test out. He'd never been overly attracted to the female form, not since his torture at the hands of Hadriana, but this wasn't a female form, this was _Anders_ , just… different. Hesitantly, Fenris moved closer, wanting to sate his curiosity to touch. 

Once the light died out, Anders’ hands lingered a bit, but he eventually lowered them, smoothing his palms over his thighs. His posture was straight, thighs properly pressed close and the light blush looked fetching on him. He was clearly a little embarrassed, but he couldn’t stop giggling. “It’s been a while I had them…” he confessed. “Poor Karl was so uncomfortable when he saw me with them, I never tried to conjure them up again. It’s… interesting.” He pushed his shoulders forward, which brought the small breasts closer together. 

Fenris shuffled his way to kneel behind Anders, kissing his shoulder softly, making his way up to his throat. He hooked his chin over Anders’ shoulder and let his hands rest on the mage’s hips, moving forward slowly to touch Anders’ stomach. He blinked in surprise when he felt smooth, hairless skin where there was usually a little trail of hair. 

“Did you shave everywhere?” Fenris asked, rubbing his cheek against Anders’. “Can I… Can I touch?”

“They’re yours to contend with,” Anders smiled. “Just be careful, they’re quite sensitive right now. It’ll settle soon, but my flesh was just exposed to - for the lack of a better term - magical abuse. Just like my poor pride, though that wasn’t magical, far from it.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Let’s just say, it involved three females, a high-end Lowtown inn, a razor and a lot of soap. On the plus side, I’m clean and fragrant… just like a lady.”

“All for me? I'm flattered,” Fenris chuckled, only half joking. Bearing Anders’ words in mind, Fenris’ hands moved slowly, brushing his fingertips against the underside of Anders’ new breasts. He moved inch by inch until he was lightly cupping them in his hands, the weight of them mesmerising and the feeling… incredible. 

A few small moans escaped Anders as he was fondled with care. His fingers curled into fists. “I… I can make them a little bigger, too,” he mentioned. “Probably will. The magic will seep away like this, after a while. The potion will fix it so the effect will last longer. Do you like them? What size should I aim for?”

“I like them like this,” Fenris murmured, kissing Anders’ throat as he applied a little more pressure, squeezing ever so slightly. “They fit perfectly in my hands. You're so beautiful, do you know that? Maker, I love you. I love every single bit of you, even without these, as lovely as they are. My mage. My Anders…” Fenris started to suck marks into Anders’ throat, biting gently, just enough to tease. 

Anders reached back to run his fingers through Fenris’ hair and tilted his head to the side to give the gentle bites more room. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, either,” he murmured. “You’re so ridiculously strong, I love how firm your grip is… but you can be so gentle, too.” He smiled and kissed Fenris’ temple. “You can play for a while, but we were going to see how things fit. Like dresses and corsets and ropes.”

Fenris just hummed in response as he continued to play, squeezing and rubbing Anders’ breasts slowly. He pinched the mage’s nipples, rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers. “I love your nipples. So pink and sensitive. Do you want to try your dress on now or save it for tomorrow? I want to see how the corset pushes these up and presses them against you,” Fenris mused, showing how the corset would hold his breasts to give him the most wonderful cleavage. 

“And I can’t wait to see the ropes curling around you,” Anders cooed, though the pinches made him gasp, showing just how sensitive his nipples were. “I’ll try the dress, just to see how it looks, but then I want to wear that corset. And the panties. Let’s not forget about my lovely lacy underwear, either. Since you went through the trouble to procure them.” He moved away and turned, but after a moment of hesitation, he rose to his knees, shuffled back to Fenris and pulled the elf’s head to his chest, between his breasts.

Fenris’ hands were back on Anders’ body as soon as he could, one holding him close on the small of his back and the other massaging one breast. Fenris kissed Anders’ chest and turned his head to kiss and suck at his breast, sucking all over both of them to mark him and bruise him. 

The healer’s shuddering gasps and moans were like music to his sensitive ears. Especially when Anders seized them, caressing their edge with his thumbs. “It’s just as sensitive as I remembered,” Anders panted. “You could probably get me off just by playing with them… and perhaps with that lovely voice of yours.” He tugged Fenris up for a heated kiss. “Plans, blight it. We had plans, why do we always get distracted? We’re so bad for each other.”

Fenris chuckled as he kissed Anders again, pressing them close together. “We are,” Fenris agreed with a grin. “If your… Warden stamina is up to the task, I'm sure we could delay our plans for a while. I want to bite marks into every inch of you so you wake up in the morning and know you're mine. So anyone who sees you _knows_ you're mine.”

“Maker,” Anders whimpered. “Maker, please, Fenris, do that.” He lay back on the bed, lifting his hands above his head, offering himself to the elf. Anders was half-erect already, and his breasts, unlike natural ones that sagged gently, still perked upwards, begging for a touch. Much like their owner. “Mark me,” Anders breathed. “Mark me as yours, everywhere on my body, please.”

Fenris crawled up Anders’ body, pressing kisses as he went. When he reached his lips, he kissed him deeply, licking into his mouth. “I think I'll start up here and work my way down.” Scraping his teeth along Anders’ jaw, Fenris tugged at his earlobe with his teeth before sucking a mark behind his ear, moving down to his throat, biting at him before he moved to suck at Anders’ collarbone, enjoying the smoothness against his lips. 

Anders breathed deeply, his enhanced chest lifting most invitingly. His hands began to roam, skimming over Fenris’ skin wherever they could reach.. Soon, he seized one of the elf’s hands and pressed it against his developing erection, almost using it as a toy and rutting against it. “Tell me what you’d like to do to me,” Anders pleaded. “I love to hear it.”

Fenris wrapped his hand loosely around Anders’ erection and let him continue thrusting into it as he continued to mouth and bite at the mage’s skin. 

“I want to play with your tits all night. I want to do everything I can think of with them,” Fenris growled as he bit into the side of one breast, hard but careful, and certainly enough to bruise. “I want to bite and pinch your nipples, I want to squeeze your tits and tie you up in rope so it outlines them perfectly. I want to push them together and slide my cock between them before I come all over them, all over the marks I'll leave on you before that…” Fenris didn't know where all these ideas were coming from but they wouldn't stop as soon as he opened his mouth. 

Anders went still under Fenris’ hand, grabbing the elf’s wrist to keep him from moving, lest the inevitable happened. Fenris could feel the firm flesh pulsing in time with the mage’s heartbeat. “I love your filthy mind,” he breathed. “Who would’ve known you had it in you? I even thought you weren’t interested in sex at all when we met.” Anders bit his lower lip with a smile. “I want you to do all that and more. These breasts are a little small for your cock though… Despite its size.” He stuck the tip of his tongue out with a mischievous wink. “Give me one of those bottles, the one with the green potion. I can drink it now, it makes no difference.”

Fenris blinked out of his lust-filled haze and looked up, reaching over for the potion Anders wanted. “Here,” he said, as he went back to biting marks into Anders’ skin, scraping his teeth over his nipples before biting at his stomach and sides, which were a little softer and rounder for all the food Fenris was filling him with. It still left Anders skinny but Fenris saw it as a step in the right direction. 

Anders squirmed, moaning when a bite was firmer than he expected, but he struggled up, leaning on his elbows, to open the vial. He took a deep breath, knocked its contents back, then pressed a hand over his mouth, looking absolutely disgusted. After a few gulps, he gasped. “Maker’s breath, the things I’m willing to do for you! If the Taint has a taste, it’s just like this.” He dropped back on the bed. “On the bright side, it’s going to be fun.”

“What will that do?” Fenris asked, looking up at Anders through his eyelashes. “Do you want some water to take the taste away?” He continued his trip down slowly, sucking at the pointed bones of Anders’ hips. “And besides, you wouldn't do it if you didn't want it too.”

“Smartass.” Anders made a face. “If you want to kiss me, do bring some water, otherwise you’ll gag at the taste, and that’s not sexy. Unlike your bites. Those are very, very sexy.” He sighed when Fenris sank his teeth into his skin again. “The potion… It further boosts my breasts, but slowly, over the night. By the morning, they’ll be bigger, and they will stay until I take the other potions and dismiss the spell. So all day long, you’ll have me with a lovely bosom, in a cute dress and eager to see if we can hide from prying eyes so you could fuck me in the open.”

Fenris hummed happily, cock twitching at the image that painted in his mind. He quickly kissed his way back up to kiss Anders’ cheek before he stood. “I'll be right back, I don't think I could go without kissing you,” Fenris said with a grin as he left to go and get Anders a glass of water. He handed it to Anders when he returned and finally undressed, looking Anders over as he did so, admiring how bruised and marked he was. He needed more on his throat, above where any collar would hide, but that could wait. 

Anders drank, rubbing at his teeth with his tongue to get the last traces of the awful taste off. Once the glass was empty, he set it aside and reached for Fenris, specifically his hands. Anders laid them over his breasts. “I can feel the herbs already doing his work,” he murmured. “They prickle, and they’re warming up… give them some love, and then, maybe you’d like to mark my back, too?”

“Oh, but I haven't gotten to your thighs yet,” Fenris said with a grin, squeezing Anders’ breasts and leaving one hand there to play with his nipple as the other ran along the outside of Anders’ thigh before lifting it at the knee for Fenris to mouth at, kissing at the cap and making his way slowly up to the middle of Anders’ thigh before he bit hard, sucking as he did to make a dark, heavy bruise. 

“Ow,” Anders winced, but he made no attempt to stop his lover. “You enjoy this, don’t you? You relish in my pain and I can only endure and hope that I’ll get some reward for it…” He pouted at the elf, drawing his arms around himself, pushing his breasts together and up in the process, obviously trying to not be obvious about it.

“I enjoy leaving proof that you're mine,” Fenris said as he soothed the bite with kisses and licks. “Whether it's a bruise or a love bite or pain that you'll feel until you don't want to anymore, I want you to remember all the filthy things I do to you, everything that I want to do to you, everything I'm _going_ to do to you. I'll always reward my lovely little Anders.”

Fenris licked up Anders’ cock slowly, kissing his way up his stomach until he reached his breasts again. He knocked Anders’ hands away and put his own on his breasts instead, squeezing them and pulling them close to his face to kiss over them, mouthing and sucking across them before he sucked Anders’ nipple into his mouth firmly. 

The healer settled back to the mood quickly, especially with the attention to his erection. He gasped as Fenris circled the nipple with his tongue; while the magic and the carefully chosen herbs worked their miracle, the little nubs were more sensitive than ever. Anders curled his arms around the elf’s shoulder and began nuzzling and kissing his temple. “Fenris, my love… you’re so good to me.”

Fenris hummed in response and squeezed Anders’ breast as he laved at the other wetly, taking his nipple between his teeth and tugging carefully. “Shall we see if I can get you off just with this? Shall I tell you about all the things I want to do and see if I can make you come just from my voice and my hands on your tits?”

“Possibly with your hands _and_ your mouth on my tits,” Anders mentioned meekly, “but yes, sweet Andraste, yes, please. ”You can add more bites too, I’m not picky. I love to hear your voice.”

Fenris chuckled and bit carefully into Anders’ breast and he massaged the other. “My mouth isn't coming off you, amatus. I'm looking forward to tomorrow. Seeing you all dolled up and pretty for me. Maker, as soon as we find a nice little alley, I'm going to pull you into it and lift you up, pull those lovely skirts of yours up and _fuck_ you. Anyone could catch us. Do you like the danger of that?”

“Yess,” Anders hissed with delight. “Not that anyone would dare to interfere… Hightown nobles are prudes or they hang out at the Rose, and if a guard finds us… I’m sure they’ll turn tails and run if you as much as glare at them. My proud elf warrior is not to be trifled with once he has his eager cock in a hole.” He threaded his fingers through the white hair, grinning. “You’ll love me so hard, I hope I’ll be able to keep my voice down. And why stop at the first alley?”

“You want to wait a little longer? Or fuck in every alley?” Fenris asked with a grin, nipping all over Anders’ breast before turning his head to pay attention to the other, neglected until now. He didn't leave the first unattended though. He waited for the chill of the air to harden Anders’ damp nipple further before he took it between his fingers and pinched, rolling it slowly. He sucked bruises into the breast under his mouth, licking and nipping gently at the sensitive skin. “I could suck you off in the first, rim you in the second and then fuck you in the third, tease you more and more every time until you're moaning enough that you could work in the Rose.”

“People try to hire me now and then, when I’m there,” Anders gasped, toes curling from the pleasure Fenris’ ministrations caused. “And they have never heard me moaning! Maybe I should try to promote mage rights in a corset…”

Fenris bit down on the underside of the breast under his mouth, growling deep in his throat. “No one sees you like this. No one but me. You're _mine_ , Anders. All mine, and I can protect you better than anyone else who so much as looks at you. Every time someone tries to hire you when we’re there, it makes my skin crawl. The idea of someone else wanting to touch my mage, my Anders. You belong to me.” He hesitated and blushed a little. “I-I mean-- For as long as you want and not-- Maker, let's just forget I said that.” 

Anders batted his eyelashes. “I like how possessive you get. It makes me feel valuable. Prized, if you will.” He tugged Fenris up for a kiss. “I know what you mean. I love you. I’m yours as long as you want to keep me. All of me, my body, every inch of it, as well as my heart belongs to you. Do with them as you see fit.”

“You are valuable. My prized mage. My love, my amatus,” Fenris whispered against Anders’ mouth, murmuring soft praises in Tevene against his lips and his skin as he made his way back down to Anders’ breasts, squeezing them in his hands before he picked up where he left off, biting and kissing and sucking at every inch of the breasts in his hands, pressing them together to bury his face in them for a moment. 

With the sensitivity increasing and the talented lover’s skills put to good use, Anders was steadily nearing his orgasm. Sometimes he rolled his hips, brushing his weeping erection against Fenris, but the attention to his enhanced chest and the low voice worked like magic as well. 

“Can’t wait to let you fuck these lovelies,” Anders panted, his fingertips digging into Fenris’ back. “You should plug me up, too, so I’ll be ready… Oh Fenris, Fenris--!” The elf’s mouth latched on his nipple again and Anders couldn’t take the teasing anymore; he came with a start and a deep gasp.

Victory tasted sweet, both figuratively and literally; Anders’s skin held a faint milky aroma that spread out on Fenris’ tongue. The slight taste of it, the sounds of Anders’ orgasm, it all had Fenris moaning softly and he noticed for the first time that his hips were rolling against nothing, desperate to be inside Anders, or between his breasts. He worked Anders down steadily, gentling his touches and his kisses, making his way up to Anders’ mouth, kissing him softly. 

“Good?” Fenris asked with a slight grin. 

“Fine,” Anders replied, but he could only keep the straight face for three heartbeats. “It was great! I’m so lucky to have such a talented lover.” He stretched lazily, carefully cupping his right breast. “I’ve never did so much with them. Fondled them till’ I came back in the Circle, but I’m only discovering the full potential now… It’s not a wonder Claudia wanted to keep them forever. I’ll fit into my clothes so well.” He folded his hands under his head with a pleased grin. “Oh, an idea. You should probably plug me up, to keep me nice and stretched for your convenience.”

“Oh, I'm not done with you yet, mage,” Fenris chuckled, pressing his achingly hard cock against Anders’ hip. “Question is, shall I open you up for me now or just fuck your tits? I'm open to suggestions and, of course, begging.”

“There was an idea about me in a corset,” Anders pointed out innocently. “Also, something about testing my Warden stamina. If _your_ stamina is up to par, you can probably keep yourself in the mood while I get dressed. Then, you’ll get to rip my panties off and fuck me sideways.” He winked. “How about that?”

Fenris hummed, pretending to muse on the idea. “I'm going to get you ready and then you can put on your corset and panties, and slide into your dress. Then, once we've finished admiring you, we’ll take your dress off and I'll fuck you hard enough to bruise your ass.”

“Ooh, I like the way you think!” Anders eagerly got up. “You stay there, I’ll fetch the ingredients. . That chest over there, right?” He paused for a moment. “Unless you’re hiding some more surprises in there I shouldn’t see.”

Fenris thought for a moment before he shook his head. “Not really,” he said with a shrug. “There are a few bits and pieces but it's nothing I was planning to be a surprise. Get the oil and then come sit in my lap,” Fenris said, laying down and waiting for Anders. 

Anders nodded and quickly searched the chest for the familiar vial. It was half full; he made a mental note about filling it up. He took it back to the bed and he obediently settled atop Fenris, placing the vial within the elf’s reach. “I’m waiting for your orders, Master.” Anders slayed his hands over Fenris’ chest, rubbing the hard muscles there. 

“Now…” Fenris purred, hands coming up to fondle Anders’ breasts for a moment. “I'm going to kiss you and open you up on my fingers.” He grabbed the oil and drizzled it over his fingers, curling the fingers of his dry hand into Anders’ hair and pulling him down for a happy, desperate kiss, plunging one finger into Anders without hesitation. 

The healer complied immediately, kissing back with passion and wiggling his rear for the best angle, the easiest access. His breasts pressed against Fenris’ chest; as Anders moved, sometimes they flattened against lyrium-marked planes, other times merely the erect nipples grazed the darker skin. It barely took a few trusts and Anders began to plead sweetly between kisses for more, another finger, a hard cock and mercy, alternately. 

Fenris would never get tired of making Anders writhe like that, or of listening to him begging so desperately to be fucked. Before Anders, Fenris had thought he'd lost his interest in sex, but he was so wrong. He did as Anders wished and added a second finger, pressing as deep with them as he could as he started to move them more quickly. 

Anders’ back arched back and he whimpered from pleasure. As he began to rock back on Fenris’ fingers, his breasts swayed nicely. It seemed like they were becoming more natural, as if they always belonged to the healer’s body.

“Nnh, yes, that’s so good...!” Anders moaned. “I can’t wait to sit on your cock. Spread me wide open, then fill me and then plug me up so I’ll remain ready for you… Ooh, tomorrow is going to be the best day of my life!”

Fenris hummed happily at the thought, the image in his head making his cock even harder. He wanted to fuck Anders _now,_ but they had plans, and Fenris did so want to see Anders in his corset and panties, and that lovely dress. He jabbed his fingers into Anders firmly, stretching him to add a third, a little before he knew Anders’ was ready.

Anders whimpered and he curled up, lips pressed together. His cock was starting to get interested again, gathering blood. The tip brushed against Fenris’ stomach, not leaving a wet trail yet, but if the treatment continued, Anders was bound to leak.

After a few moments, Fenris decided that Anders was ready and so pulled his fingers free, teasing his lips over Anders’, before whispering. “Now get dressed.” He grinned wickedly and slapped Anders’ rear.

“Yes, serah.” A little uncertainly, but Anders climbed off the bed and picked his corset up. It took a little while to shimmy into it, but the garment was a nice fit, and the color looked lovely on him. 

“Could you help with the lacing?” Anders asked, tugging at the chords. “I could probably get them right but it’d take forever.”

Fenris nodded and stood, turning Anders round and pulling the laces until the corset fit him perfectly, a little on the tight side to flaunt Anders’ new breasts. The process took only a matter of seconds; Fenris used to do this for Hadriana, but the experience was… enjoyable with Anders. “There,” Fenris breathed softly, moving closer and skimming his hands over Anders’ waist. “Put on some panties and then I’ll help you into your dress.” 

The healer ran his hands over his new hourglass shape. “It’s… tight. But-- Sweet Andraste, I look so… nice.” The tips of his ears began to glow red and he had the silliest grin as he turned to briefly hug Fenris. “I kinda wish if I could turn into a girl for you. Just once. Just for a day. We’re coming real close though!” He laughed and smooched the tip of the elf’s nose, then picked up a pair of blue panties, to match the corset. Before he pulled them on though, He properly tucked himself in, for the nicer image. The lacy undergarment kept everything in place quite well and suddenly, Anders really looked like a woman, albeit a tall, thin and angled one. Especially once he tugged the tie out of his hair and it fell free, the longer tresses at the front framing his face.

Fenris smiled, but it turned dark and hungry when he took in the new image of Anders. The mage’s hair was always a fascination, so soft and silky, but when it fell around his shoulders like that, Fenris wanted… everything. He pulled Anders close against him, running his hands over every inch of him. 

“I fell in love with you the way you are,” Fenris whispered, kissing him softly. “All this… is just an added benefit. We might like to play but I don't want you to change for me. I love you.”

“I know, I know.” Anders kissed back. “I don’t want to change anything about myself, either. I mean, I’m gorgeous.” He frowned a little though. “So yes, I hope the boobs will go away.”

Fenris laughed and kissed Anders again. “If they don't, it's hardly the end of the world. Come on, let's get you in this dress.” His erection had flagged from the lack of stimulation, even if arousal and desire still coursed through his veins. 

Anders certainly didn’t have any concerns about that. The dress was a little easier to get on than the corset, given his previous experience and careful instructions form helpful acquaintances. It wasn’t anything fancy, the same model one could often see on Marcher women, with a not too wide neckline and a cinched waist. The latter was made adjustable, and once properly laced, it hugged Anders’ body just perfectly. The skirt half was pleated at the front, to enhance the hips and the final look was stunning. Anders definitely made for a handsome woman.

“So, can I see myself now?” Anders asked, a little shy. “Tomorrow, I’ll add the makeup too… I want to look as feminine as possible, just in case we run into somebody--”

Fenris was stunned to silence. If he'd thought Anders was beautiful before, then he was more stunning than Andraste herself now. Anders’ words jolted him from his reverie but he didn't hear a word as he strode closer and grabbed Anders, shoving him against the wall and lifting his thighs. The skirts of his dress bunched up around his waist in the front and hung loose in the back, but Fenris didn't care as he attached his mouth to Anders and started to pull the mage’s pretty little panties down to his knees, baring the entrance that Fenris had prepared only minutes before. 

“I need you, now,” Fenris growled against Anders’ mouth, lingering for permission despite the way he trembled his pure need. 

“If you stain my dress, I’ll be very, very cross with you!” Anders warned, but his eyes betrayed him, glowing like molten gold. “Don’t tear anything, I need to wear this tomorrow. But... “ he leaned a little closer and looked into Fenris’ eyes. “Do fuck me. Right here and right now.”

“Promise,” Fenris mumbled, kissing Anders’ briefly, messily. He lifted Anders enough to slide right into the mage’s wet, open entrance with a groan deep in his voice. He kissed Anders again, fingers curling to grip his thighs tighter, nails digging in. “Maker, you feel so good. Wrap your legs around me.” 

Anders obeyed though not with a few muffled, albeit heartfelt profanities. His cock was released from the hold with the panties off and now it was bobbing between them with every thrust, slowly becoming interested. Anders grabbed Fenris’ shoulders as well and did his best to roll his hips, to give the elf a better access. 

Fenris swore quietly, groaning and pulling away to all but bury his face in Anders’ breasts, sucking more soft marks into them, rolling his hips slowly as he moved inside of Anders, breathing picking up as his thrusts did, moaning against his skin. “I love you,” Fenris murmured, shifting Anders to make sure they didn’t ruin the dress.

“It still sounds strange, coming from you,” Anders panted. He simply let the elf use him, doing little else other than keeping himself upright. “Didn’t think you’d be for confessions and endearments. I love them though.” He gasped at a well-aimed thrust. “Don’t hold back. I want you to come inside me.”

Fenris growled and thrust hard before slowing a little. “I like it. It reminds me that I’m free, that I _can_ love you, and I can tell you. I don’t have to lie or hide it or pretend, I can simply be.” He grinned a little and picked up his speed again, pulling Anders close enough to feel every inch of him. 

Anders managed to free a hand and thread his fingers through Fenris’ hair. “I feel the same,” he admitted. “For so long I was afraid to feel like this. Still am, a little, but-- it’s soo good. I love you, I love to do these crazy things and have sex and cuddle and I want to live with you, be part of your life. I want to be yours. Yours only.”

“You are,” Fenris said immediately, voice slightly rough with pleasure. “And I am yours. You have my heart. Stay here, forever, I'll keep you safe. Live here with me.” His hand moved to Anders’ cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. 

“Concentrate on not dropping me,” Anders suggested, breathless but with a little laugh. “No need to make me come right now. Be selfish, think of yourself. Trust me, I won’t let the issue slide. So fuck your pretty bride nice and hard-- not too hard. My dress will get wrinkled and sweaty otherwise.” His laughter was honest and light.

Fenris, grinning, gave Anders one last stroke before returning his hand to Anders’ thigh, muscles straining less with both hands holding him up. “My ‘pretty bride’, huh?” Fenris asked, the grin already on his face widening. “You want to marry me, Anders?” His thrusts became harder, sacrificing speed for strength, hitting Anders’ prostate every time. 

“Don’t-- take it-- so-- seriously…!” Anders gasped, in time with the thrusts. “Maker, you just can’t do what you’re told, right? You little shit.” Regardless, he clung to Fenris, short nails digging into the elf’s skin. “D-don’t drag it out… I want you to come.. And tomorrow-- tomorrow’s our wedding day.” 

Fenris couldn’t help his wicked grin as he buried his face in Anders’ breasts again, biting and sucking more marks into them as he sped up again, pleasure burning deep in his stomach. The kisses that Fenris pressed over every inch of skin that he could reach came with murmured Tevene and soft grunts. 

Anders couldn’t do anything but hold on for dear life. His breasts were sensitive, more than they were before, so every bite made him gasp. He briefly wondered if this entire relationship thing was going to work out considering Fenris’ selective deafness - the damn elf just never did what he was asked, really! - but the pleasure soon drowned it out. They had plenty of time to sort that out. 

“Come for me, love,” Anders panted. “Please, come for me.” The corset wasn’t the most comfortable thing he ever had on, and the tightness of it was making breathing a little more difficult.

The words made Fenris cry out as he came, slamming into Anders one last time as he shuddered through the orgasm, panting against Anders’ skin. “Okay?” he asked quietly, carefully setting Anders down after he pulled out. “Shall I make you come?”

“Give me a second, for Andraste’s sake…!” Anders leaned against the wall, clutching the dress so it won’t fall over his now leaking cock. “Don’t you want to plug me up? Now would be a good time.”

Fenris nodded and went over to grab the plug, the glass cool to the touch as he brought it back, slicking it with a little oil just in case. “Turn around for me,” he said, pecking Anders on the lips before he did so. Fenris gently pushed the plug in, watching the way Anders’ muscles grabbed at it. 

Anders shuddered with a delightful whimper. “So cold…! It’s fine though, just fine. A little bigger than the others, isn’t it? It fits so well.” He straightened, still keeping the dress pulled up, winked at Fenris and walked over to the mirror. The sight made his cock twitch. “Merciful Maker, if Elthina could see this, she’ll drop dead on the spot.”

Fenris laughed with a grin, coming over and trailing his fingertips up the underside of Anders’ cock, watching his expression closely in the mirror. “It is a little bigger. Definitely enough to keep you open for me to use you at any time.”

“Mm, good. The banging I’m going to get tomorrow might hurt me otherwise.” Anders licked his lips, eyeing their reflections in the mirror hungrily. “Now, you could be a dear and bring me off? I’d like to watch it like this.”

Fenris chuckled as he wrapped his hand more firmly around Anders’ erection. “I'd only hurt you if you asked for it. I'm sure I could oblige. I do love watching you come…” He began to stroke slowly but firmly, twisting his wrist over the head, eyes dark as he stared in the mirror. 

“Ooh, yes…!” Anders couldn’t look away. Seeing himself like this was fantastic, and Fenris’ eyes glowed dimly, lending him a dangerous but alluring look as he stared at their reflections over his lover’s shoulder. Quite like a desire demon. “You can make me come so hard. Harder than anyone. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Fenris answered without hesitation, tightening his grip a little and rubbing his thumb over the tip. “I love making you come. I love the faces you pull and the noises you make. It's amazing. _You’re_ amazing…”

“Aww.” Anders’ laugh was breathless. “Then it’d be rude to deny it from you…” He leaned back a little against Fenris, gathered the dress in one hand while the other came to rest on the elf’s, that busily worked. Anders abandoned himself to pleasure and moaned with every stroke, panting and gasping and he got closer and closer to the orgasm.

Fenris’ desire and arousal began peaking again, despite how his cock remained flaccid. He loved the noises Anders was making and tightened his grip a little, moving faster. His other hand came out to settle over Anders’ throat, squeezing just a little, enough to tease the pressure. 

Anders’ eyes became clouded and half-lidded and Fenris could tell just how fast his heart was beating by feeling the healer’s cock pulse underneath his palm. It didn’t take long for Anders to come, his body arching a little, lips open for a short cry and his seed spilled to the floor, a few drops even hitting the mirror. After several spurts, Anders sagged, trusting Fenris to keep his weight. He brought the left hand on his throat to his mouth to kiss the palm and each fingertip as a thank you. 

Once his cock softened, Anders let the dress drop, too. It had a few wrinkles, but thankfully still looked presentable. Anders himself, flushed, hair slightly tousled, looked a little less presentable, or better said, a different kind of presentable.

Fenris grinned as he looked Anders over, kissing across his shoulders slowly. “Okay? Did you enjoy yourself?” Fenris asked, pressing slightly on the plug before backing off. “You did well. Come here, turn around and lean against me, let’s get this dress off you. I love you. _Carissimus, dulcissimus, amatus_...”

“I only have a vague idea what you’re saying,” Anders pointed out as he reached back to undo the fastenings on his attire, “but you sound so sexy when you speak Tevene. Now get me out of this thing indeed, because I need to take a few breaths. Maybe we shouldn’t lace up the corset so tightly, unless you want me to faint once I glimpse your dick, like some fragile noble lady.”

Fenris chuckled softly with a smile and gently pulled Anders’ hands away from the clasps, undoing the fastenings swiftly, nuzzling at Anders’ throat as he did. He pulled the dress down off the mage’s arms and guided him to step out of it, pulling the panties off with it. When he stood again, he quickly undid the laces of the corset and pulled it off Anders, setting it down on the desk. “Noted. We’ll find a tightness that suits you and stick with that. Especially for tomorrow. I like that you don’t know what I’m saying in Tevene. Adds some mystery,” Fenris teased softly. 

“Only as long as I don’t learn it properly.” Anders grinned and put his hands on his hips. “Show me your homework, young man! Sometimes your ‘s’ is still curling the wrong way.”

“Oh, but I also speak Qunlat,” Fenris chuckled, grabbing the piece of paper and Anders, carrying both of them to bed, lying down and pulling Anders down to curl around the mage, hooking his chin over the bony shoulder to look at the parchment. “The ‘s’ confuses me. It always looks wrong no matter how I write it.”


	11. Fun And Fancy 2

Anders’ informants weren’t off the mark; the next morning was perfect with a mostly clear sky, a light breeze and lovely sunshine. As the sun rose on the horizon, its rays found their way into Fenris’ mansion, slowly sweeping across the bed to finally wake the sleepers. 

After a bit of studying and a light dinner, they retired, cuddling up. Under the covers, their bodies rested close, sharing warmth, touching here and there, reassuring each other that they were still together.

As Fenris woke, slowly with the warmth of Anders’ body against his. He sighed softly and nuzzled closer, stroking his hand up and down Anders’ side gently, eventually opening his eyes with a little smile, kissing over his face to wake the mage bit by bit. 

It worked; even before he opened his eyes, Anders was smiling, tipping his head to seek out Fenris’ lips and kiss him sweetly. “Good morning,” he murmured finally when he cracked his eyes open. “Did you sleep well, love?”

Fenris hummed before eventually muttering a quiet ‘yes’. “Did you? You’re lovely and warm, I enjoy having you in bed with me. Perhaps I’ll have to keep you here forever,” Fenris pretended to muse. He grinned a little and stretched out like a cat. 

Anders couldn’t help but run a hand over the elf’s toned belly. “Well, I was quite exhausted. We got a lot done last night. And today’s going to be even better.” He yawned then sat up. His breasts swayed softly and Anders frowned a little, running a hand over one. “They’re… bigger than I expected.”

“Too big?” Fenris asked, reaching out to squeeze one slightly. It didn’t quite fit in his palm anymore, but that didn’t make them any less attractive. “They’re nice. I’ll have to control myself if you want to go out.” He grinned. “I could do your hair, and your makeup.”

“You can?” Anders raised a brow. “You can definitely make me prettier! But… they don’t feel right.” He cupped the breasts, weighing them. “They feel too heavy and-- I don’t know. A little uncomfortable. I don’t get it, this didn’t happen before.”

“Maybe the potion wasn’t quite right, or you used too much magic?” Fenris suggested, squeezing the breast in his hand once more before he sat up beside Anders and took both in his hands, rubbing and massaging them slowly, kissing at Anders’ neck. “I like them.”

“I’m sure I did everything right. I dispelled the effect a lot sooner though, so it might be normal.” Anders lifted his arms to stretch. “I can really feel them, so… it’s not too bad. When you sucked on them, that was really nice. A little-- weird, but nice.” He caressed Fenris’ head, kissing the elf’s forehead. “This is nice, too.”

Fenris smirked a little and dipped his head to scrape his teeth lightly over Anders’ nipple, sucking firmly on it as he continued to play with the other breast, squeezing and massaging firmly. He wrapped his spare arm around Anders’ waist to pull him closer, toying slightly with the plug still inside him.

The resulting deep, shuddering gasp was as satisfying as ever, not to mention the taste, sweet and mellow-- and a mouthful. As Fenris sucked, suddenly there was something in his mouth, and he could feel wetness on his fingers as well. 

Fenris coughed and spluttered in surprise as he pulled back, staring at his fingers with wide eyes. “Anders, is-- What… You…” He looked from his fingers to Anders, stunned. 

Anders seemed just as surprised. He hesitantly squeezed his nipple and tasted the liquid that seeped out. Then, he buried his face into his hands. “Okay,” he mumbled, “Okay. I did not see that coming. Probably should have. Why didn’t anyone tell me this was going to happen? So they’re so big because they’re full of-- milk.”

“Did you go round asking for advice about giving yourself breasts?” Fenris asked, unable to stop his slight grin. “It's okay, it was just a… surprise.” He pulled Anders into his lap and nuzzled at his cheek, kissing over his face. “Come on, let's get something to eat and then we can see what to do with your hair.”

Anders gave his lover a mean look. “I’ll forgive you, because you don’t have the necessary knowledge, but I was trained a healer, top of the class and all that. The potion I used contained herbs that are given to nursing women who don’t have enough milk; I thought it’ll increase the size, but-- I didn’t think it’d actually work as intended on a man! The Chantry forbids us to cut up dead bodies so we could see the inner workings; most of our anatomical knowledge comes from accidents, tedious observation and some smuggled bits straight from Tevinter. I had no idea a male and a female breast works the same way if you give them a boost! Come to think of it, I should probably write a letter--” He shook his head. 

“I can only hope that these lovely things here,” he shook his shoulders to make his breasts sway, ”don’t work too well, because a nursing child has to be fed roughly at every other hour. To achieve that, the milk production is continuous. And if the breasts don’t get drained, they swell further and start to ache, so while I can very much agree to breakfast, I’ll need a moment to do something about the problem and possibly contemplate my life choices.” Anders ran a hand over his face. “Well, at least I gained some wisdom.”

“It'll hurt if we don’t… drain them?” Fenris asked hesitantly. “Should we… I could-- Or if you'd rather deal with it alone, I--” He sighed in frustration. “I could help with that, i-if you wanted me to. Why does the chantry forbid dissection? In Tevinter, it's common for the bodies of slaves to be cut open and examined in front of a group of Magisters. Sometimes it would be performed on sedated slaves to see how it functioned while the person was still alive.”

Anders’ eyes went wide. “They do that to living people? Just open their bodies to see-- But how do they-- Wait, no, I know the answer to that question.” He looked away. “I think I just threw up a little in my mouth. Not thinking about it.” He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. 

“Tevinter is quite friendly to blood magic,” Anders continued, trying to focus on something else. “They have expendable slaves as well and they do have a long and great history of magic. At other places though? Imagine a mage trying to cut a body. The templars would immediately smite him down, because what else could he be up to than blood magic? Raising the dead, even? And if a non-mage would be doing it… I’d say, it had to be done in secret, but even if it happened and the observations were recorded, mages and ‘normal’ people don’t mix. Neither do their books. I’ve read my first smutty romance novel at a Fereldan Bann’s home.” He sighed at the memory.

“Now back to the task at hand--” Anders tilted his head to the side as something occurred to him. “Wait-- what was that about you helping me…?” His face flushed a little but he grinned. “Do you want to milk me, like a cow?”

Fenris laughed and pulled Anders against him to kiss him, chuckling softly. “Well, it would feel good, and it would make you feel better… And it doesn't--” Fenris flushed a deep red, glancing away. “It doesn't taste so bad. I want to help, if you want me to.”

“Oh.” Anders looked away as well; the sovereign dropped immediately, he knew what the elf was proposing. “I-- I wouldn’t mind.” He curled his arms around Fenris’ shoulders and kissed the elf’s temple. “I was thinking about it… I’d like that. Please help me out.”

Fenris nodded slightly and took a shaky breath as he pulled Anders into his lap. He leaned close to kiss and lick over the soft skin of Anders’ breasts to try and arouse him at least a little rather than diving straight in. When he reached Anders’ nipple, he licked over it with the flat of his tongue and hesitated before sucking gently on it, his hand coming up to toy with the other. 

Anders’ soft sigh was less telling than his arousal; his cock immediately stirred at the first kiss and he rolled his hips once. He buried both his hands into Fenris’ hair, massaging the elf’s scalp. Anders began kissing him wherever he could reach, whispering sweet things between soft breaths. “Fenris, my love… my precious, my lovely. You’re so kind to me… Do you like it? Do you like to drink from me?”

Unable to hold back his soft moan, Fenris pulled back to plant sloppy kisses over Anders’ neck as he brought up his other hand to carry on where his mouth had left off. He smeared the warm fluid around, squeezing his breasts firmly before latching on to the nipple that hadn't had the heat of his mouth yet. 

Anders took a shuddering breath then gently stilled his lover. “Wait… Let’s try this--” He moved to lie on the bed, upper body propped up on the pillows and opened his arms. His eyes were clouded but warm. “Come my love. I have more for you.” Between his thighs, his erection was quite noticeable.

Fenris’ eyes zoned in on Anders’ erection and licked along it as he made his way up Anders’ body. He kissed and nipped at his breasts for a few moments before focusing on his nipples again. “Shall I fuck between your breasts while they're so big and swollen?” Fenris asked with a purr, looking up at Anders through his lashes as he sucked slightly. 

“I wanted you to lie down with me, but if you’d like to…” Anders pressed his breasts together, squeezing a few drops from them. “You can try.” He grinned. “You naughty little boy.”

Fenris snorted in amusement and leaned up to kiss Anders softly. “If I'm naughty then what are you?” he asked with a grin as he pulled Anders’ legs over his hips and sighing happily when it brought their cocks together. 

“A great disappointment under the Maker’s sky,” Anders guessed. “A deprived abomination, a mage gone mad. Take a pick.” He briefly closed his eyes as the pleasure shot through him. “It’s just, I’ve seen nursing women, and they look beautiful. They’re so serene and warm with their babies and-- I don’t know. This shouldn’t feel exciting, but it does. Just thinking about you suckling me like a newborn-- it makes me both bursting with joy and so damn hard.”

“You may be all of those things, but you're mine,” Fenris said softly, kissing Anders again before he moved back down to carry on where he'd left off, biting carefully at one nipple and tugging the other with his fingers. “Just as I am yours.” Fenris latched on and began to suckle gently, moaning softly as his eyes fluttered shut. 

Anders bit his lip to muffle a moan, then carefully cradled Fenris in his arm, pulling him even closer. “That’s it, love, my precious little Fenris,” he murmured. “You’re safe with me. I love you.” He dropped a kiss on the white hair and began to caress the elf’s face with his free hand, using the back of his fingers. Anders gently rolled his hips, just enough to feel how their erections pressed against their bellies. His unattained breast was leaking from arousal, drop after drop rolling down the inviting curve of his flesh.

The words - words that Danarius had once used - washed over Fenris and all he felt was desire and happiness. And the pride that he was beginning to erase his master’s lying words from his mind. Instead there was only Anders, and Fenris could think of nothing better. He rolled his hips slowly, moaning as he happily suckled from Anders, one hand supporting him above the mage as the other tangled in his blond hair, stroking against his scalp. 

“Come, lie down,” Anders whispered. “On your side, so you could relax. Cuddle up to me, let our entire bodies touch. I want to hold you in my arms… like a child. Fenris, beloved. My only one.”

Fenris pulled Anders tightly against him and rolled them onto their sides, tangling their legs together and pressing as close as he could while still being able to suckle at Anders’ breast and play with the other. “I love you,” he breathed when he pulled away for air, breathing heavily against his damp skin. 

“I know,” Anders smiled happily, holding Fenris tight. “I know that you do, I’m so sure of it and it’s an amazing feeling. No doubts, no worries. I love you, too. Now finish your breakfast, darling.” He leaned closer to whisper into Fenris’ ear. “You look so cute when you suckle. I could do this every morning. Relax, my love. We have all day, let’s rest a little while longer.”

Fenris returned to suckling at Anders’ nipple, shame beginning to coil in his stomach at just how _hard_ he was, how hot he was finding this. He moved to the other breast and finished off the first with his fingers, though his toying didn't end when the milk did. Fenris was surprised by how soon he felt full, so he pulled away to use his hands, just teasing the hard nipple with his tongue occasionally. 

Anders seemed to find this just as arousing, because he couldn’t lie still; he curled one arm around Fenris’ waist, to keep their hips together, and he rutted against the elf, slowly first but his movements gained speed and force as the moments passed by. Eventually, Anders was panting and moaning, eyes closed in bliss. He showered Fenris’ forehead and temples with little kisses, babbling about how good it felt, how happy he was and how much he loved Fenris. 

Finally, Anders tensed up, starting to lose his rhythm; his erection was painfully hard, sliding against Fenris’ stomach, friction eased by sweat and precome. “F-Fenris, I’m going to-- Maker, so good-- Fenris, Fenris…!”

“Come for me,” Fenris purred, biting down firmly on one nipple as he ground his cock against Anders’, groaning in pleasure. He was close too, teetering on the edge of _almost there._

“Y-yes, I’m co-- Oh!” Anders tossed his head back as he hit the peak and helplessly gasped several times as he rode out his orgasm. His warm seed poured over the both of them, given how close they were, easing the friction further.

Fenris pulled Anders closer and moaned at how easily his cock rubbed against Anders’ stomach. It didn't take long until he was adding to the mess with a soft moan and a shuddering of his breath. “That's good… Fuck…” he sighed against Anders’ skin, resting his forehead against his collarbones. 

“Merciful Maker…” Anders breathed, practically curling around Fenris. “That was so good. I don’t think I could stand right now.” He nuzzled Fenris’ hair. “So… How did you like breakfast?”

Fenris snorted in amusement and blushed, the shame returning. “It was… different. Do you feel better?” he asked hesitantly. Fenris pulled the blankets over them again and snuggled closer. 

“I’m not sure I feel anything, aside that I’ve had a fantastic orgasm,” Anders laughed. “But yes. The fullness is gone, I feel lighter. And I think we should wash. We’re sweaty, covered in semen and some breast milk.” He caressed Fenris’ face. “You’re ashamed a little, hmm? I-- feel the same. But… I don’t know about Tevinter, but in Fereldan, nursing women sometimes feed the sick and elderly, because their milk is very rich. So it’s not forbidden or anything, just… a little weird, how we got aroused. But I think it’s because we love each other so much.” He smiled brightly, nuzzling Fenris.

“In Tevinter breastfeeding is seen as a sign of being poor. The well off and rich would never be seen breastfeeding a child, certainly not their own,” Fenris said as he tightened his arms around Anders, not wanting to move, but knowing that they were filthy and needed cleaning, he needed to. “I'll run the bath.”

“I’ll look for breakfast,” Anders volunteered. “You might have had your morning milk, but I’m still hungry.” He squeezed Fenris tight against himself then disentangled and sat up, pulling the elf with. “This is going to be a marvelous day, I just know it. Oh! Besides, I still haven’t seen you in ropes, so that could be a plan for the evening. But first things first! Let’s get ready for sightseeing. I haven’t even really seen Hightown. Especially not the lovely alleys.”

Fenris snorted in amusement and climbed off the bed, heading into the bathroom to let the taps run. He wet a washcloth and wiped himself down quickly, not really enjoying the feeling of semen drying on his stomach. While the bath was filling, Fenris began to set out their clothes for the day, laying the dress and corset on the bed before choosing some simple clothes for himself. He knew he wouldn't feel safe without his armour or sword but this was for Anders, and he was more than capable of defending them without a weapon. 

Anders in turn could tolerate being a certain type of filthy, especially when there was a luxurious bath in the making. He raided Fenris’ pantry for food, boiled water for tea, sometimes stopping to wonder that the breasts didn’t get in the way at all. Once the table was set, he rushed back to the bedroom to spirit Fenris away to the bathroom.

Fenris laughed slightly as he was dragged into the bathroom. He knelt to turn the taps off and smiled up at Anders before he slipped into the water. He sighed softly at the heat and reached out for Anders to join him. 

The healer was eager to scrub the filth off his skin. Once he was done, he turned his back to Fenris and leaned on all fours, glancing back over his shoulder. “Would you remove the plug? It’s been in long enough. Before we go, you can put a smaller one back, but I don’t want to risk this one:”

“Of course,” Fenris said, dragging his fingertips down Anders’ spine as he quickly admired the sight of him like this. He took hold of the plug and carefully removed it, setting it on the floor to be cleaned later. “Better?”

“I wouldn’t quite say that,” Anders shrugged as he turned and curled his arms around Fenris, kissing him. “I like it when there’s something in my ass. Or someone.” He batted his eyelashes and laughed. “However, if we start flirting, we’ll never get out of the house and that’d be wasting some perfectly good clothes, not to mention the opportunity. We have a lot to do before we can leave. I say we leave the water, too, I’ll cleanse it, and we’ll just heat it up at the evening. If we manage to get half of the fun done that we planned, we’ll need a bath.”

Fenris agreed with a soft chuckle and cleaned himself quickly. “Are you excited? I am. Nervous, though,” he admitted shyly. 

“Nervous?” Anders tilted his head to the side with a smile. “Why is that so?” He made good use of the soap as well. 

“We’re planning to have sex, in public, where anyone could see us. Are you trying to tell me you aren't in the least bit nervous about that?” Fenris asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Excited is a better word,” Anders smirked. “I live my life constantly looking over my shoulder for threats, this is hardly anything new. Except that no-one’s going to try to kill me for being indecent. I don’t mind it terribly if people watch me and anyone who happens across us will flee the scene in embarrassment, anyway. The guards won’t give a serious chase if we run; they have better things to do than harassing lovers. I can defend myself, and you are threatening enough when you growl and glow.” 

Anders leaned in and kissed Fenris. “We’re going to be fine. If you let the nerve get to you, it’ll affect your performance.”

Fenris snorted in amusement and shook his head slightly in disbelief. “I won't disappoint you, mage,” he chuckled. “Come, if you're mostly clean, let's get out.”

After toweling up, they returned to the bedroom and Anders set out his make-up. “Probably I should get dressed before doing it,” he mused. “Help me with the corset first, then- you said you’d do my hair. I’m actually curious how you’re going to do that.”

“Over time I've collected a lot of hair pins. They're useful. Your hair isn't as long as needed for most hairstyles but I can think of something. And, uh, I might have stolen a few of your hair ties,” Fenris admitted with a slight blush. He'd taken them for a favour that he had planned on wrapping around his wrist, but this was as worthy a cause. 

“I’m not sure if I should be touched or slightly weirded out,” Anders raised a brow. “I think I’m getting the hair ties, but hairpins? Why in the Maker’s name are you collecting those, you keep your hair short.” He adjusted the panties and moved on to the corset. “I might grow out my hair now that I have somewhere to wash.”

Fenris moved to help, making sure not to make the laces as tight as yesterday. “Like I said, they're useful. One day I'll tell you about the time I used two to kill the guards that Danarius had stationed on me one time when he caught up with me in Antiva. Plus, I used to have very long hair. I cut it in Seheron.”

“Sweet Andraste, you must have looked gorgeous,” Andes mused, running his hands over his trim waist with a pleased expression. “I like your hair, it’s so soft. It probably looked marvelous falling against your dark shoulders. I’d kill him on sight, but Danarius does have a good taste.“ He picked up the dress and got into it, arranging it everywhere for the most proper fit. The earring he pinned into his ear completed the look. 

“Thankfully the hole is still not closed,” Anders huffed. He fetched the make-up box and settled down on the bed, taking a small mirror. “It’s been a while I last had any jewelry on. Now, have a go at my hair. Make me look even more pretty.”

Fenris smiled a little and touched the earring gently. “It's nice. I like it. Perhaps after Danarius is dead I'll grow out my hair for you.” He settled behind Anders again and started to brush his hair slowly, careful not to tug. Once he was done, he began to style it with the hair pins and the ties, leaving a strand of hair falling down the side of Anders’ face. They accentuated his cheekbones. He couldn't help but kiss his cheeks. 

“Careful, careful,” Anders warned. “If I mess up, I have to wash it off and start again.” He was lining his eyes with the kohl with painstaking precision. “You don’t need to do anything for my sake; if you decide to grow your hair, do it because you want it. When you’re done with me, go get dressed, this business might take a little while… Then, breakfast! A nice tea and some sandwiches for the lord and lady of the mansion.” He laughed, bumping his head against Fenris’. “And then we’ll hit the town.”

“I find it… difficult to decide on my own desires, at least when it may have consequences for more than a day or two. But I feel like it would be impractical now,” Fenris shrugged after thinking for a few moments. “I have to admit though, I'm not hungry.” He grinned a little sheepishly. 

“Oh. Oooh. I see what you did there,” Anders rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me think about it, a boner would probably show under the dress eventually. I still can’t believe we- Maker, it was better than it had any right to be. Still, have a bite or two, you might not feel hungry now, but even a single cup of milk wears off fast, and I don’t think you had that much. As for myself, I want some tea.” After a brief hesitation, he packed up. 

“I won’t have to bother with the lip blush,” Anders mused. “It’d only last until the first kiss anyway, which will undoubtedly happen in twenty heartbeats after we leave the house. Are you done with my hair? I want to see the end result.”

“I'm done,” Fenris said as he moved back to admire his handiwork. It wasn't as curled as he would have liked, but he didn't have the tools. With half pulled up into an elegant bun and the rest left to fall loose against Anders’ shoulders, he looked beautiful. 

The healer was pleased with the result too; he checked himself in the tall mirror, and a lovely blush bloomed on his cheeks as he examined himself. The image was as perfect as it could get. The dress’ cut and colors were well chosen, they gave the illusion of narrower shoulders and an even more slender waist as well as wider hips. As far as looks went, probably no-one was going to spare the couple a second glance. 

“I would bed myself,” Anders declared. “Probably not marry because I have an awful personality, but look at me. I’m keeping the corset.”

Fenris snorted in amusement. “I got you the corset with the idea of you keeping it. That's what a gift is, after all. And you have a wonderful personality,” Fenris said, with a brief pause for effect. “You're just annoying.” With another chuckle, he moved to get dressed himself. 

Displaying an incredible level of maturity, Anders stuck his tongue out then went to the kitchen to sample the food he located earlier. He reheated the tea and settled down comfortably to sip it while chewing buttered bread. He was curious about Fenris’ attire, but he was willing to wait. 

When Fenris joined him, the elf was fidgeting and almost… shy. He wasn't used to being out of his armour, particularly not when they were planning to leave the mansion. The clothes he'd found were relatively simple; the fabric was a deep blue, almost black, and the stitching was lined with silver. The leggings were a pale brown and the usual soft leather. Fenris still refused to wear shoes. 

“You look dashing this morning, darling,” Anders tried to mimic a woman’s voice. “Ready to go and survey your kingdom? Don’t worry about the sword, but you could take a knife, perhaps, just for good measure? Now sit and eat, you can’t do work on an empty stomach.” He tried to school his expression, but he still couldn’t help the mischievous grin.

Fenris grinned a little in return as he came over. “We’re going out for a good time, I won't ruin it with my paranoia. And if it becomes necessary…” He lifted his hand and activated the lyrium in his fingers. “I don't really need a weapon.”

“That’s the man I love!” Anders cheered. “I can’t wait.”

***

The streets seemed deserted once they stepped outside. The weather was perfect, steadily warming up but a little breeze cooled it pleasantly, tugging at Anders’ dress playfully. It was decently early but today even the market wasn’t going to really pick up until midday, as everyone was visiting the Chantry, or at least staying home, praying in private.

“One of the few days when the Chantry has people in it,” Anders remarked. “Whenever I go there, I can see one or two lonely souls dozing on the benches, some sisters and Elthina, and that’s it. Sometimes there’s a wayward prince. I wonder if anyone would notice if the entire building suddenly vanished.”

“I only go to visit Sebastian or with Hawke,” Fenris said thoughtfully. “I don't understand Southern Chantry traditions, it's bizarre. Would you like a pastry?” he asked, nodding at the stall. 

“I suppose there’s always more room in me for sweets,” Anders nodded eagerly. “What’s with Chantry traditions? I know the Tevinter Divine is different, like it’s a man and he apparently doesn’t want to kill anyone using blood magic, but I thought the basic practices are largely the same?”

Fenris laughed and kissed Anders’ cheek before he went to get the pastries, returning with two and handing one to Anders. “The Black Divine, as you call him, may not want to kill anyone with blood magic - in public - but that doesn't mean he doesn't use it in private or even before he became the Divine. More often than not, the Divine is a member of the Magisterium first. And a Magister can get nowhere without the use of blood magic.”

“Yeah, I suspected as much.” Anders looked around for a bench and he strolled up to the one he spotted to settle down elegantly. “Still, the freedom magic-users have is tempting. It would be nice to take a look around… except for the slavery part. It makes Justice grumpy.” He took a bite and his eyes drifted shut for a moment. “Mmm. Keep spoiling me with delicacies, and I’ll be at your mercy. However, we were talking about Southern Chantry traditions.”

“And here I was, thinking I already had you at my mercy,” Fenris said with a small grin. “Minrathous is a beautiful city, if you ignore the poverty and squalor that's carefully hidden away. It's warm, much warmer than this Maker-forsaken city. I think you'd like it, except for the slavery part,” Fenris added, echoing Anders’ own words. “But what Chantry tradition have we come out on today? Nothing too holy that we’re going to defile?” he said in a quiet purr. 

“I’m afraid we’ll have to refrain from defiling,” Anders sighed with regret. “If there’s one place we’re going to get caught at for sure, it’s the Chantry. All the templars who aren’t on duty at the Gallows today will be there, so let’s just avoid that area. I really want to see more of Hightown. Parks, alleys, convenient nooks and crannies… If you’re catching my drift. At noon, we’ll find ourselves a nice tavern and have lunch, then, I don’t know… Heh, what do you think Hawke would say if we visited him?”

“I didn't mean we go to the Chantry, although _that’s_ an interesting thought… I know of many alleys and hidden away areas in Hightown. Perhaps I'll show you to a few of my favourites,” Fenris smiled. “As for Hawke… He’ll either freak out and think you've - _we’ve_ \- gone insane, or he won't recognise you and he’ll be the wonderful host that we both know he's not usually.”

“He’d be so happy for you though,” Anders chuckled. “Look at my baby elf growing up so fast and bringing home girlfriends.” He threw his head back and laughed, then finished his pastry and swept the crumbs off his lap. “Alright! Show me your favorite places, serah.”

Fenris stood and offered his hand to Anders with a tiny smile that he couldn't stop from curling his lips. He kissed the back of Anders’ hand, blushing at the public display. There weren't many people around, but they were still out in the open. Fenris began to lead Anders through Hightown at a leisurely pace, eventually taking a back alley that split into a fork. Taking the left and several more turnings, they were in what seemed to be a dead end, but hidden behind the large piles of junk was another alley, wide and dark, more a tunnel underneath one of the staircases of the city than an actual alley. 

“Oh dear,” Anders mused. “It’s a good thing we’re in Hightown, where the Guards keep the streets safe! At places like this, one can get easily mugged. Or worse. Far-far worse. I wonder if a cry for help would even reach anyone’s ears if some poor soul were molested here by some handsome, seductive schemer.” He leaned against the wall, his hands behind him, blinking at Fenris innocently. “You’d never do such a thing, right, serah?”

Fenris smirked and looked Anders up and down slowly and stepped closer in a way that would have been threatening to anyone else. “If you thought that, you should learn to be more careful who you go into dark alleys with, little lady,” Fenris chuckled. “Now… will you turn around for me, or do I have to make you?”

“T-turn around?” Anders’ eyes widened and one of his hands pressed against his bosom. His acting skills undoubtedly have aided his escape attempts in the past; he was quite talented with feigning innocence and harmlessness. “I don’t understand, why do I have to-- What do you want from me? You’re not going to-- hurt me, right?” He worried his teeth over his lower lip, trying to inch away slowly.

Following every minute move away from him, Fenris had to make sure in Anders’ eyes that he was still on board with this, his acting was so convincing. When he was sure, Fenris took a step closer. “Oh, I won't hurt you… _much_ ,” he growled. “I can make you feel good.”

“What do you--” Anders gasped. “Oh no! Messere please! Take my earrings, but don’t hurt me! I need to remain chaste until marriage! What would my father say if I went home defiled? He’s a proud Amell, he’d never forgive me!”

Fenris managed to hold back his laughter, though the humour was obvious on his face. He stepped closer still and pressed his hand against Anders’ chest, right over his heart and the swell of his breasts, to hold him against the wall. “How would he know? Are you going to tell him? Are you going to tell him how the elf touched you, made you feel good? Made you _come_?”

The heartbeat under his palm was rapid. Anders tilted his head to the side, lips pressed tight. “How would that feel good if you forced me? You lured me into a trap, you vile thing! Take the earrings and leave me be!” He shifted a little, subtly swaying his hips; he was probably getting aroused by the game. “I’m going to tell my father that you raped me and then-- he’ll find you and slay you!”

With another step, Fenris was flush against Anders, the erection in the elf’s trousers pressing against the skirts of Anders’ dress. Fenris didn't even know if the mage could feel it but the slightest pressure made it ache less. He felt sick, for being so aroused by this so quickly, but it was Anders, and the sight he made… “Perhaps I shouldn't let you return to him then. Maybe I should just steal you away and keep you tied up for me to use whenever I want, so you can't escape.”

“Oh no, please!” Anders pressed his hands against Fenris’ shoulders and made a half-hearted attempt to push him away. “I must return! My poor father’s heart would break if I didn’t…! And- I’m no whore, no pet to kept chained! What a horrible thought! You wouldn’t do that!”

“Perhaps. Turn around for me, pretty one. Put your hands on the wall and I'll make it easy on you,” Fenris promised, lighting the lyrium in his fingertips just enough to tease a little underneath Anders’ skin. “Are you going to be a good girl for me? If you're good, it won't hurt. But if you keep being naughty… Well, that's up to you, isn't it?”

Anders bit his lips to keep the moan inside that wanted to emerge once the elf’s fingertips dove inside him. “F-fine,” he breathed and slowly turned, pressing against the wall. “There. I hope you’re happy. How many innocent maidens have you tarnished, knife-ear? You won’t get away this time, My father will-”

Fenris cut Anders off by roughly pulling his hips back with one hand, the other hand on Anders’ chest steadying the mage so he didn't overbalance or hurt his face on the wall. “Shut up,” Fenris hissed against his ear as he ground forward his own hips forward against Anders’. 

This time, the healer couldn’t hold back his voice. He gasped, fingers curling up, nails scratching the stones of the wall. He could feel his lover’s eagerness, and the lovely underwear he had on was becoming way too tight as well. “Oh please!” he begged, “Please don’t, please! The first man I know should be my husband…!”

Fenris didn't answer this time, focusing instead on slowly pulling up the back of Anders’ dress. He slipped character briefly to nibble at Anders’ ear and murmur, “Anyone could find us here. You like that idea, pet? They could find us here where we’re being so filthy.” With a growl the character he’d assumed came back. “Your future husband won't want to _touch_ you after I'm done. He’ll sneer and toss you aside, because you're ruined. What value are you to him when you aren't even intact?”

“I won’t even have a chance to marry,” Anders lamented, wiggling his rear. “My father will disown me, I’ll be thrown out to be a whore, servicing men to earn coin… You cruel creature! Why are you doing this, why to me? I’ll be ruined forever!”

“Why risk all of those men when you can be my pet?” Fenris asked as he finished the slow pulling up of Anders’ dress. He moved his hand from Anders’ chest to smooth across his rear, loving the feeling of the soft fabric under his hand. “If you didn't want to be touched, why wear such pretty underthings? A whore at heart, aren't you?”

“They make me feel pretty!” Anders snapped, pulling his shoulders up in embarrassment. “I-- I’m not as pretty as my sisters, so I have to dress well.”

“I happen to think you're _gorgeous_ , even without this lovely dress and these pretty smalls. That's why I picked you, pretty one,” Fenris purred. He slipped his hand into Anders’ underwear and squeezed the cheeks of his ass with a soft hum. 

Anders whined needily, shifting under the eager hands. “What are you waiting for then? Just get over with it and leave me be! If you want to ruin me, at least do it quickly.”

“Oh, but I want to take my time. I want to _savour_ you; who knows when I get to do this again?” Fenris asked as he continued in his almost slow exploration. His fingers dipped into the crack of Anders’ rear and rubbed against the small plug they'd used to keep Anders open for this encounter. 

Anders closed his eyes and cursed inwardly. He was probably ruining the nice panties, dripping precome all over the soft fabric because the damn elf was taking his sweet time! Anders was hard and needy and uncomfortable, but the game had rules and he was a girl now, and girls did not normally enjoy strange men fondling them. So he pressed his forehead against the cool stones and breathed, concentrating on the sensations.

Fenris pulled the plug from Anders and slipped it into a small pouch on his belt that he'd brought specifically for that and some oil if they needed it. “Are you still slick enough?” Fenris asked quietly as he pushed Anders’ smalls down to his knees. 

“I should know?” Anders asked back. “Probably. It didn’t hurt, so probably yes. Fenris, please…!” He was getting desperate. His cock all but jumped free and it was dripping, betraying how excited he was. 

Fenris couldn't hold back his amused snort. “I suppose not.” He abandoned Anders’ entrance for a few moments to touch the mage’s cock, humming happily at just how much he was leaking. “You're so needy, love, just look at you…” Quickly coating his fingers with the oil, Fenris pushed three fingers straight into Anders, pressing against his prostate teasingly. 

“Nnh!” Anders instinctively tried to move away first, but the pressure didn’t ease. The pleasure shot through him, coaxing more precome forth. “Hurry up already… I want this to be over. My poor father will be devastated.”

Fenris chuckled deep in his throat and pressed harder against Anders’ prostate for a moment before he withdrew his fingers and undid his leggings to take out his cock. He wiped the rest of the oil on it and positioned himself at Anders’ entrance. “Are you ready, pretty one?”

“I’m going to kill you,” Anders promised. “Slowly. Then I’m going to cut my wrist and raise you so I could kill you again, consequences be damned. Fuck me right now or so help me.”

Fenris laughed, hiding his face in Anders’ neck for a moment. He began to push in, slipping all the way in easily with how slick and open Anders was. Fenris groaned and used the hand not holding the back of the dress up to lightly - too lightly for real stimulation - stroke Anders’ cock. 

The slow thrust wrought a long moan from Anders and he pushed back against Fenris, relishing in the sensations of their joining. After a few heartbeats though, he bucked into the teasing hand, desperate for more stimulation.

Unable to deny Anders’ anything, even without words, Fenris tightened his grip and started moving his hips in firm thrusts. “Maker, you feel good…” he growled. “You feel so good.”

“I know,” Anders laughed breathlessly. “Oh, I know that. I even managed to charm you away, after all!” He leaned forward a little more deeply, for a better angle. His fingers found some purchase on the wall, the stonework wasn’t perfectly even. Anders was able to securely brace himself against the steady thrusts. 

Fenris saw that Anders was able to brace himself and sped up a little, allowing the force of his hips to jerk Anders’ cock in and out of his hand. Seeing Anders clinging to the stone wall of the alley with his soft panties around his knees and the skirts of his dress hiked up at the back, Fenris couldn't help his soft growl, which he muffled by burying his face in the crook of Anders’ neck.

The shady corner felt less and less cool as the moments passed by; the pleasure built steadily, coiling in their guts. The peak came closer and closer at the end of the path-- 

The nook under the stairs would’ve been engulfed in darkness if not for the barred little window in an upper corner. It allowed some light and air in, and also some of the sounds of the outside world. Like the heavy footsteps on the stairs. The faint metallic ring to the sound indicated armor, and Guards didn’t prance around in platemail. 

Templars. Two of them, most possibly.

Fenris froze at the sound, his grip tightening a little too much on Anders’ cock as his heart began to pound with fear rather than pleasure. Panicked, Fenris pulled away from Anders and dropped the dress back into place as he fixed his leggings. 

“Mess up your hair and smudge your makeup,” Fenris said quickly. “We’ll get arrested for having sex in public but not just kissing.”

Anders turned with the most intense look of disdain and disbelief ever and held up both his hands. He continued to stare pointedly at Fenris as the sounds drew further away and died. 

“I-- am honestly at loss of what to say,” Anders stated wryly. “Thankfully I think this is part of your charm.”

Fenris fell lax against Anders and pulled him close, burying his face in the mage’s neck. “I couldn't... I can't lose you. I'd do anything to keep you out of their hands.” He was silent for a few moments before he sighed. “Have I ruined the mood? I'm sorry…”

“Aww.” Anders curled his arms around the elf’s shoulders. “I-- thought you were afraid for yourself -- I mean, the both of us. Fenris, love. I want to help you, but I’m not sure, how. You’re still terrified.” He pulled Fenris up to kiss him. “They weren’t looking for misdemeanor; they never do. Templars don’t care about crime. Just think about the blood mages we root out. It’d be their duty, and they don’t even bother with them. If they tried to attack, we can take two easily, even unarmed. You’re a fearsome warrior with your lyrium and I have Justice. And who’d notice them down here?” Anders rolled his eyes. “You trust me, but not my abilities; neither yours. Your fear clouds your judgement, and that could lead to consequences.” He caressed Fenris’ hair. “Is there anything I could do to help you overcome this fear?”

“I… You're so patient with me, I don't know how you do it. I don't know if I'll ever be able to fully trust your magic, or Justice, and I'm sorry if that's the case. After what I've been through, it… stained me,” Fenris said slowly, embarrassed and ashamed at his panicked reaction. “I'm sorry. Can we go home? I'll make it up to you there…”

“I wanted to get to this--” Anders held up a hand. “You still seek to fulfill your loved one’s every whim without a care for yourself. That’s not how love is. When your lover asks you to do something you feel uncomfortable about, you protest and you reach a compromise. I shouldn’t have ignore how nervous this idea made you… I’m sorry. It’s a lovely day though, so please let us stay? No more public indecency, just a stroll, holding hands?”

“I liked this idea, I enjoyed this. I liked the, uh, when you pretended you… That bit, that was… nice,” Fenris finished lamely with a blush. “I'd like to stay out. This is the most sun I think Kirkwall has seen in years.” Fenris looked at Anders silently for a few moments and he suddenly realised just how much he cared for the mage. He loved him so much it _hurt_ , and that was one of the scariest things he’d ever experienced. 

“That said, you make a horrible villain,” Anders teased. “You could have seduced me into compliance, but chose to be a ruffian. That would have worked well if you weren’t so concerned about my well-being. I have a mouth! I have a safeword! You don’t need to worry, if all else fails, Justice will subdue you.” He kissed Fenris again. “I love when you’re rough and demanding, don’t be afraid to play the part. Also, I should probably hand the idea over to Varric. It’d make a nice novel. The elven scoundrel defiling a noble’s daughter and the two of them ending up together…”

“Then it's a good job I don't want to be the villain, isn't it? I'll have to learn to hide my concern in different varieties of roughness, won't I?” Fenris said with a small smile. “I'm sorry for ruining it. I didn't mean to. When you're ready, we can go wander the city. I'm sure there's a stall somewhere we can get some food for lunch.”

“Sounds good to me.” Anders hiked his dress up to pull his panties back at their proper place. Then, after making sure he looked presentable, he straightened Fenris’ clothing as well. “There we go.” He offered his arm to Fenris. “Lead the way, serah.”


	12. Fun And Fancy 3

The rest of the morning progressed perfectly, with the two of them winding through well-kept streets that seemed to be located somewhere else, not the notorious City of Chains. Here and there, they stopped for a kiss under flowering trees leaning over walls of noble gardens, picking petals from each other’s hair afterwards.

Around noon, they stopped for a bite and a glass of wine at a tavern with some benches outside. The waiter even addressed Anders as ‘madame’, and it made him grin smugly when the guy was out of sight. 

Once they continued their walk, they ended up in a little street with a lot of small shops that dealt in luxuries like jewelry and glassware, but there was a tiny bakery squeezed in there, too. It seemed that the profile was mostly sweets, mostly from Orlais and the scents wafting from inside made Anders stop in his trek. 

“Fenris,” he began to tug on the elf’s sleeves enthusiastically. “Be a boyfriend. Be a gentleman. Please?” Anders flashed off his cutest smile. 

Fenris stopped in his tracks and blinked through the sudden memories that the smell brought up. Hadriana, giving him a hard-boiled sweet from Antiva and then beating him for having it as soon as it was in his hands. Being offered a cookie and being punished whether he accepted or denied it. The other tortures that Hadriana has exacted on him, whether caused by his sweet tooth or not. Fenris jolted back to the present and smiled at Anders. “Of course, let's go in.”

The round-faced, smiling young woman behind the counter greeted them happily - probably, the business was a little slow today. Anders pulled off his best female voice, inquiring about the different pastries and eventually settled with a creamy treat with whipped cream on top. 

“Anything for you, my dear? Anders inquired, glancing at Fenris.

Fenris glanced between the pastries and Anders nervously. Was he expected to want a pastry? Was he expected to eat it? He didn't know, and he hated that he was treating Anders like Hadriana. It didn't make the words any easier to say though. 

“C-Can I have that one? Please?” Fenris said, adding the ‘please’ as an afterthought. He pulled his hand away from Anders’ when he felt it getting clammy and disguised the move as getting his coin purse out. 

Once the coins were laid on the counter, Anders picked up the plates. “We’ll be having them outside, darling,” he smiled sweetly at the girl. “Would you mind fetching us a cup of water a bit later? Thank you.” He gently steered Fenris outside and they settled down on the chairs. 

“Is there something wrong?” Anders inquired quietly.

As soon as Fenris sat in the chair, he let out a quick breath and sagged slightly. He was quiet for a few moments before he spent a few seconds slowing his breathing. When Fenris opened his eyes again, he smiled weakly. 

“I'm fine, it's just… bad memories. I'll explain later, if you wish,” Fenris said, reaching out to stroke the back of Anders’ hand. 

In turn, the healer captured it with his own. “I just told you not to do things that pain you,” he said quietly. “Maybe I should make it an exercise: subject you to things you loathe and ask you if you’re okay. You have a will on your own, and you have no master. You decide what you do. You’re free, Fenris.” Anders smiled. “Remember that. You’re free to do anything.”

Fenris nodded, calming down quickly with Anders’ words. He smiled back and squeezed the mage’s hand, not letting go. “I know. I want this,” Fenris said, looking at the pastry on the plate in front of him. “I want _this_ ,” he repeated, looking up at Anders. “I just need to get over the memories.”

“I know that’s hard,” Anders nodded. “But you’re strong. You can do it.” He released Fenris and picked up his fork. “So let’s fight, hmm?”

Fenris smiled and did the same. “I love you,” he said, surprised as ever at just how easily the words came. Not that he would ever change that. “Let me feed you.” He pulled Anders’ plate across the small table and got a bit of the pastry on his fork before he held it out for Anders to eat. 

Anders let out the most girlish giggle and obediently opened his mouth, making a bit of a show of nibbling the pastry and custard off the cutlery. He hummed as he chewed then licked his lips, shooting Fenris a smoldering look. “You’d never let me starve, right, love? Always so ready to give me something delicious and _creamy_.”

The grin that split Fenris’ lips was wide and he got another bit on the fork, holding it out again. “I'll always find something to keep you nice and _full_ ,” Fenris replied with a purr. “Is that nice?”

Anders laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling with merriment. They continued their little game until the salesgirl brought them the water. 

“Alright, enough,” Anders smiled once she left. “Let’s eat the sweets and continue on our way. I’d like to go to the livelier districts, too. I wonder if anyone in the Blooming Rose would recognize me… They probably would, though. And someone would try to hire me again.”

“If they did, they would find themselves rather badly bruised,” Fenris said almost flippantly. “Where did you have in mind, because I would rather not go to the Rose unnecessarily.” As he spoke, he started to eat his own pastry distractedly, busy watching Anders. 

“It is a haunt of sin, but the workers are nice,” Anders pointed out. “It’s not their fault people drag in their filth. We don’t have to go in, anyway, I just had that area in mind. It’s still Hightown, but I hear there are some fun pubs and taverns there, possibly some street performance before the Guards shut it down… Some entertainment would be nice. Any ideas?”

“Wherever you want to go is fine by me. I just enjoy spending time with you. We can always go by and have a look around,” Fenris said. “There may be somewhere that has better drinks than the Hanged Man, which isn't exactly hard.”

“You’re right about that. I adore Varric, but what they serve in that-- place, it basically once step from horse piss. Sometimes I have the urge to purify it before I drink it.,” Anders agreed wholeheartedly. He made short work of his pastry, emptied his cup then patiently waited for Fenris to finish. “We can have dinner at some nice place, then we might as well head home. There’s still some fun to be had,” Anders mentioned with a small smile.

“Oh? And what kind of fun is that?” Fenris asked innocently, lips curling just a little in a smirk. “Because I am very much looking forward to finishing what we started earlier.”

“Did we- Oh, yes! Yes, we did.” Anders gathered the dishes and brought them back to the shop, thanking the girl and saying goodbye. “Yes, you definitely owe me something…” he continued, voice hushed, once he joined Fenris and they started to walk again. “Namely a mind-blowing orgasm.”

Fenris chuckled and took hold of Anders’ hand, tangling their fingers together. He said softly, “I'm sure I can manage that. If you wish, I can use the rope. O-on me.” 

“You did promise that, too!” Anders agreed enthusiastically. “You’d look so lovely with it.” He leaned closer to smooch Fenris. “I’d like to do it again later, but not just for decoration. On me, I mean. I’d love to be helpless for you, unable to move, just accepting whatever you decided to do to me…”

“I can do more intricate designs, keep you immobile. We can experiment. I'm not ready for anything more than… decoration just yet. But maybe one day,” Fenris said quietly. “Come on, save that for later.”

They eventually walked all the way up to the Viscount’s keep, Anders boldly facing the Guards lingering there, confident in his cover and squeezing Fenris’ hand lightly to assure him everything was fine. Later, they ended up at a lookout spot, where one could admire the sea and the rather intimidating statues carved into the tall rocks guarding Kirkwall. One could see the Gallows from there and Anders shuddered subtly, feeling Justice stir inside. He chose to look at Fenris instead. 

“I quite enjoyed today,” Anders remarked, sweeping a stray strand of hair out of his face; here, the breeze was a little stronger. “It felt so different. Like another life… A life we were not expected to live.”

Fenris pulled Anders closer to wrap an arm around his waist and hold him against him. “We've come a long way from the petty arguments when we first met.” Fenris pushed another loose bit of hair behind Anders’ ear. “For the first time, I feel… in control of my own choices, but I'm not alone. I know I can rely on you. I hope you know the same.”

“I do,” Anders assured him with a smile, wrapping his arms around the elf’s waist. “You keep me sane, you’re someone I can return to. I know I’m not alone; you and the others have my back. You’re my respite after all the work. With you, I’m at peace.” He kissed Fenris. “Not to mention the absolutely fantastic sex.”

Fenris grinned against Anders’ lips and kissed him again. “I'm glad. I love you. I've never said that before, not to an equal - but I do, I love you. No one would dare to touch my Anders, not even Hawke. You're mine, for as long as you want to be. Shall we return to the mansion? I'd like to spoil you some more. Get your wine, rub your feet, massage your back, I want you to relax so that when I take you apart piece by piece, you'll be floating in your mind until I put you back together.”

“Ooh, that sounds splendid,” Anders smiled. “You always spoil me. Not that I have anything against it.” He took Fenris’ hand and the pair headed down towards the streets.

They were crossing what it could’ve been called the livelier part of the district when the first raindrops splashed against the cobblestones. Anders looked up in alarm. 

“Where did that come from? If it picks up, it’ll ruin my make-up- I’m going to look like a wet raccoon! Though, at least it doesn’t look like it’s going to last. Can we hide somewhere until it passes?” He hesitated for a moment. “The Rose’s just around the corner. Is this a good reason to go there?”

Fenris looked skeptical but nodded with a frown. He didn't like the Rose for a reason, but if Anders wanted to go, he wouldn't try to stop him, and he certainly wouldn't let him go alone. “Alright, come on. But… Anders?” He hesitated. “What's a raccoon?”

“Wha-? You don’t know that?” Anders raised a brow as he tugged Fenris with in a hurried pace. “They don’t live in Tevinter? Well, I guess they don’t. It’s an animal, about the size of a large cat, gray fur, their tails are striped with black. Around their eyes, their fur is black too, so they kinda look as if they’re wearing little masks. Same as I’m going to look if the kohl smears. Like someone who got punched in the eye.” He stopped right under the eaves of the building. “It’s going to be alright. We’ll have some wine, wait a little and once the rain passes, we’ll go home.”

Fenris shifted a little, eyes glancing around the area before he nodding and led Anders in with a firm grip on his hand. Inside, the brothel was as elegantly decorated as Fenris had seen in Kirkwall, save for the Viscount’s Keep, and smelt like cheap wine and sex. The rugs were stained with splashes of drink - and were probably in better condition than the bedsheets - and the tables were sticky with spilt ale. The working girls themselves had enough skin on show that they may as well be naked, but the sight stirred nothing in Fenris, not even the faintest tinge of arousal that used to be there. Now there was nothing for anyone but Anders. 

Lusine strolled up to them as usual, eyeing them with the slightest confusion. “Good evening, what could I help you with?”

“A clean table and two cups of good wine,” Anders said, not even bothering to sound different. “We’re not shopping, Lusine.”

The Madam tilted her head to the side and raised a brow. “Do I know you-?” Her tone indicated that she very much did.

“No, not tonight,” Anders smiled. “Unless you’d like to start paying for the regular check-ups.”

Lusine grinned. “I must say, ma’am, that dress is lovely and very becoming. Hiding from the rain I suppose? Still, if anything catches your eyes, don’t be afraid of shopping. The dashing gentleman,” she gestured towards Fenris, “gets my workers talking. Wait a moment, please.” She hurried off, calling for the waitress.

“You heard that?” Anders asked with a grin. “Seems like people notice you now and then.”

“I would rather they didn't,” Fenris grumbled even as he blushed a little at the compliment. 

The waitress that turned up a few moments later looked like she'd just pinched her cheeks pink and rearranged her corset to push her breasts up even higher than they'd been before. Fenris had always found it odd that even the waitresses dressed scantily, like everyone was aiming for an award for showing the most skin. The smile that Fenris sent her as she showed them to a table, leaning more than necessary over Fenris to get the mugs of ale that had been left on the table. 

“I'll be right back with your wine, sir. Madam,” the waitress said with a wink at Anders. 

“Thank you,” Anders smiled back with noble dignity, but as she left, he started giggling. “Maybe I should be worrying about someone trying to pick you up! It wouldn’t be a surprise; you’re quite handsome indeed. You also look a little less fearsome out of armor.” His grin darkened. “We probably look like some thrill seeking aristocrat and her elves servant looking for a threesome.”

Fenris couldn't help but laugh a little. “I suppose we probably do. I don't think I could share you like that, _madam_ ,” Fenris said with a soft purr. The waitress returned swiftly with a bottle and two glasses that looked relatively clean. She poured the wine and left the bottle on the table before she walked away with more sway in her hips than strictly necessary. 

“Well, there go the ideas about whoring your lover out to your friends.” Andes picked up his glass, not looking like he minded the missed opportunity terribly. “Mages aren’t quite monogamous by nature, but we understand what it means… and I can imagine myself being no-one else’s.” He blushed a little and clinked his glass to Fenris’. “To us.”

“To us,” Fenris repeated, copying the action with a smile of his own. “They could watch, but not touch. Touching is only for me. Would you like them to watch you begging and pleading for me? Watch how I claim you as mine?”

Anders squirmed. “I think you know the answer to that question. Sometimes I forget that you’re just as perverted as I am. Perhaps next time, I should dress you up as a girl. Or abuse my magic and make your belly swell as if with child.”

Fenris merely chuckled, surprising even himself with how relaxed he was at the prospect. “I would rather you didn't, I have to admit. Lives like ours don't result in simple tastes, do they?” Fenris said with a small, sad smile. “Anyway. It's… not so bad in here.”

“Well, they haven’t done anything yet,” Anders glanced around. “The wine isn’t half as bad, either.” He took another sip then raised a brow as a hooded figure rushed in, shaking the water off their dark cloak. Lusine immediately rushed to greet them but she seemed friendly, not her usual businesslike self. The stranger threw their hood back with a melodious laughter and it turned out it was a beautiful elf woman with long curly blonde hair - a trait that was relatively unseen amongst elves. It already made her interesting. 

Anders couldn’t help but stare subtly; the girl was lovely, her movements graceful as a dancer’s. She moved to one of the tables, settled down on top and picked up a lute laying nearby. By then, she practically had all the attention in the hall; some made a move to approach her but she tossed her hair and began to play. It was apparent that she was both trained and talented.

Fenris, used to picking up on the tiniest twitches of body language, noticed Anders’ staring and felt a little… left out. He glanced at the elven woman; she was pretty, yes, and her skill with a lute was unquestionable, but why was Anders watching her like that? “Anders?” Fenris said softly, trying to hold back the beginning sparks of jealousy. 

“What?” Anders glanced at Fenris. “She’s pretty! Very pretty! I’m into women as well, not just sexy glowing guys.” He snickered. “If you’re going to bristle every time I find others attractive, you’re going to do that a lot. I still think Hawke’s handsome. Isabela is very pretty. That doofus Choir Boy is quite a sight, questionable opinions notwithstanding. Even First Enchanter Orsino is nice to look at.”

Fenris frowned into his glass. “You don't have to _stare_ at her,” he grumbled. While Anders finding others attractive was annoying, it wasn't something either of them could stop, but Fenris didn't like the way Anders was watching the woman like he wasn't there. 

“I can only stare at her now; I can stare at you all day, fortunately,” Anders said wisely. “There’s this saying: ‘I’m faithful, not blind’. If you seriously think I’m going to run off, then all the big words we toss at each other mean precious nothing.”

“I don't,” Fenris said quickly. “I don't think you will. Not in my rational mind, anyway, I just… I don't want to lose you, not if I can help it.” He fidgeted a little, wanting to reach out to touch Anders’ hand but unsure how welcome the move would be. “I'm sorry.”

“It’s endearing for a while, then it turns annoying,” Anders explained. “You’re not going to lose me.” He did it for Fenris, reaching out and warmly squeezing the elf’s hand. “Just keep it down. I’ll be more than willing to hear how I belong to you and no-one else and I shouldn’t even look at others while you’re balls deep inside me.” He flashed off a lewd grin, then began to clap as the lute player finished the song.

Fenris blinked in surprised desire and clapped belatedly, only joining in for a moment before it was over. He looked over at the entrance as a few men entered, seemingly dry. “The rain seems to have finished. Let me know when you're ready to go and we’ll go home. I also have a… gift. It's optional, but a gift nonetheless.”

“You truly spoil me, love,” Anders purred with delight. “This wonderful day, all the treats and now, a gift! Let’s finish the wine then we can go.” He poured their glasses full and raised his in another toast. “To you, my handsome protector.”

As they drank, there came an excited murmur from the guests. Lusine appeared with a dark-skinned girl who was dressed in nothing but some sheer skirts and jewelry. Her eyes were painted with gold, her limbs adorned with delicate chains. The elf girl helped her on top of the sturdy table and began to play, this time a foreign melody. The dark girl began to dance, commanding all the attention. Her lovely breasts pierced with golden hoops surely had something to do with that. 

Anders couldn’t help but stare again. “Maker’s breath, for a moment I thought that was Isabela.”

Anders’ interest was a good thing this time, Fenris decided. “Isabela doesn't dance that elegantly,” Fenris said with a small smirk. He sipped at his wine until it was gone a few moments later, watching Anders stare at the woman. “Are we staying until the dance is over, or are you ready to go?”

“I-- I think we can go. At least they won’t notice us leaving.” Anders stood and slipped out with Fenris in tow.

The streets were still a little wet, but the rain indeed passed, cooling the air. The sun was setting, some windows already lit with lantern light. There was going to be a small crowd soon, people feeling the need to make up for the quiet day. 

As they walked, Anders was thoughtfully poking at his earring, then he turned to Fenris. “Did you see the rings in the dancer’s nipples? They looked… enticing.”

Fenris merely said, “I did,” and grinned. He was excited now. He wanted to see what small golden hoops would look like in Anders’ nipples. Luckily, he had exactly that - and the tools to put them there - waiting at home. He'd found the kit when wandering the market one day and had immediately thought of Anders, but he’d been too afraid to mention it and had then forgotten. Now seemed as good a time as any to mention it again. 

“I have seen some people with them...” Anders mused. “They look nice. It almost makes me wonder why you don’t have them…” He glanced at Fenris. “It’s probably the warrior thing. Takes too long to heal, uncomfortable under the armor? What a pity. They do exist in Tevinter though, right? It seems like their thing.”

“I used to,” Fenris admitted. “Danarius had me decorated in all sorts of piercings. He said his little wolf had to be pretty too. I took them out when I escaped. The holes are gone now. I… You would look lovely with them as well,” Fenris said carefully, wanting to gauge the response. 

“You think?” Anders had a peculiar gleam in his eyes, that usually meant nice things. “I’m almost sorry I never had a chance to see you with them. They hurt really bad, right? Where did you have them? Doesn’t it make the skin insensitive, I mean, there’s a scar- Tell me more. If it’s not something you don’t want to talk about.”

“On the contrary, it made the areas more sensitive,” Fenris said. “You'd be surprised by how little it hurts, comparatively. I had hoops all down my ear, my nipples, and-- more… private areas. For Danarius they were a sign of ownership but many people have them for pleasure.” It would never fail to amaze Fenris, just how open he was willing to be with Anders. He tried to steer the conversation back to his original line of thought. “You'd look lovely with hoops in your nipples.”

“Are you trying to rope me into having one?” Andes laughed. “You certainly managed to pique my interest. They look really sexy and I suppose with a little more coaxing-” He stopped abruptly, squinting at the elf. “You already have the rings, don’t you.”

Fenris smiled sheepishly and fidgeted awkwardly. “No…?” he tried. Two lovely little hoops were definitely _not_ sitting in the hidden drawer of his desk and there was certainly no way that Fenris had the materials necessary to add the decorations to Anders’ chest. 

“You are as horrible a liar as you are a villain,” Anders put a dramatic hand over his bosom - which, on second thought seemed a little more prominent than it did when they left the house. “However, you did manage to pique my interest indeed. I might need some wine… or a lot of wine… But it’s--” he nervously rubbed his earring, “It’s appealing. Anything that makes me prettier is worth considering.”

“Nothing could make you more beautiful than you already are. We only decorate that beauty with lovely dresses and makeup,” Fenris said, reaching out to take Anders’ hand in order to kiss the back of it and hold it against his chest. “Think about it, don't decide based on what you think I want.”

Anders gave him a flat look. “You’re not making that any easier with how cute you are. However, let’s get home now… I think my body had enough magic. Justice is starting to get restless. And the corset feels tighter. You know what that means.”

Fenris chuckled. “Will we need to… deal with that before we turn you back to normal?” he asked curiously. He kissed Anders’ hand again before lacing their fingers together and starting to head back home. “Is the-- spirit playing up?”

“He’s got a name, you know,” Anders pointed out. “I think-- he might be worried. I don’t know, maybe he’s alarmed that if he had to take over for some reason, he’ll get stuck with the extra assets. He was pondering about occupying a female form back in the days, but never got around it.” He adjusted his rack a little. “We should do something about it, yes. Once they’re empty, I’ll dispel all of it; it’ll still take the night for everything to return to normal, but I should be my statuesque self by morning. Then we’ll get back to nipple piercings. And discussing your limits.”

“My-- Oh I see. Alright,” Fenris said with a nod. “I'm trying, with Justice. It is… difficult, to adjust my opinions when confronted with new information about something I was previously so sure about. I'm sure he knows that if anything that caused him to come out were to happen while we’re out, I would… protect him as I would you.”

Anders blinked. “Oh. I-- felt that. He appreciates it.” He walked in silence for a little while then added “I’m glad you’re warming up to him. He’s a part of me… and a friend. He knows me--” A broad grin spread out on his face. “More intimately than you do.”

“As filthily?” Fenris asked with a wide grin. “He isn't what I expected.” Fenris pulled Anders a little closer and walked with him back to the mansion. “I like that you live with me. I get to protect you and love you and care for you. It… gives me a purpose.”

“Except that it sounds suspiciously like servitude,” Anders mentioned with a sigh. “But you’re still improving. One step at a time.” Once the door closed behind them, he took a deep breath. “Off with this thing, I’d like to breathe. I need to wash off the paint and you need to fuck my brains out.”

Fenris laughed a little. “One step at a time,” he countered. He was quiet for a few moments, fingers playing with a frill on Anders’ dress. “I know it sounds like servitude, but it doesn't feel like it. Doing it for you, it makes me happy. That’s probably because of my past and I hate that, but… I can't deny that I enjoy taking care of you. You make me feel… complete.”

“Listen.” Anders curled his arms around Fenris. “I know it feels great. You want to sing and dance and cuddle, And I know it’s hard but--” His shoulders sagged. “I wanted to say ‘get too attached’ but we’re both beyond saving already. Still, what I’d like the least is you crumbling to dust if something happens to me. I know you’d protect me, but you can’t be with me all the time. You have to be able to still live without me.”

Fenris pulled back a little to stare at Anders with wide eyes. After a few moments he averted his gaze and nodded. “I understand. Come on, let's get undressed.” He tightened his arms around Anders briefly before stepping back to take his hand and lead the mage upstairs. “Let's get that makeup off your face.”

For a while, neither of them spoke. Anders shimmied out of the dress and the corset with a relieved sigh, though the panties stayed on. The mascara was persistent and he had to use some soap to get rid of it, spitting a little when he accidentally tasted the lather. Once he was done, he undid his hair, smoothing it back, once again looking more like his real self. 

“Not saying I’d do it every other day, but today was a lot of fun,” Anders declared, rubbing his chest dry with a towel.

Fenris smiled and came over, taking the towel from Anders to dry him. “I enjoyed myself, despite the mess I made of our devious plan.” As Fenris dried Anders, he leaned down slightly to kiss at the dry skin lightly, licking just a little. “I plan to make that up to you though.”

“You better do,” Anders purred. “May I treat you to something beforehand, though?” He cupped his breasts and jiggled them. “Just if you’d like to, of course. Considering what happened last time…”

“Perhaps just a little, as fun as it was to make you come like that,” Fenris grinned. He kissed Anders’ breast one last time before he stepped away to undress, carelessly dropping his clothes to the floor and leading Anders towards the bed slowly. 

This time, Anders made sure things went as planned. He pushed Fenis down on the bed so he laid on his side, stretched out next to him and sneaked an arm underneath the elf’s neck, to pull him close. “I love you,” he declared softly. “You’re so good to me. My Fenris, my precious.” He caressed a dark cheek lovingly. “Come taste me again:”

Fenris all but whimpered as he latched onto Anders’ nipple and began to suckle at him. The praise, it made Fenris curl closer with desire, hands grabbing at pale skin. He moaned quietly at the sweet taste on his tongue and sucked harder for more, pulling Anders as close as possible. 

“Now-now, not so hastily,” Anders murmured, caressing Fenris’s hair. “We have time. Relax, just let me take care of you this once. I can’t let my precious baby choke and waste all the sweet milk. Slowly, slowly. It’s alright, my precious. I’m not going to leave.” He ran a hand along Fenris’ arm, trying to ease the death grip. “As if you were a newborn,” Anders whispered. “It’s so peaceful… You can relax.”

Fenris did relax against Anders slowly, a few moments passing until he was calm. Lyrium-lined hands soothed where they'd grabbed and the desperate mouth pulled back an inch, licking apologetically. Fenris took a few deep breaths until he was fully relaxed, limbs loose as he lay against Anders, stroking absentmindedly at his side a little. 

In turn, Anders buried his nose into Fenris’ hair, inhaling the elf’s scent. His thumb drew idle patterns over Fenris’ cheekbone, and after a while, he began to hum. The tune was slow and relaxing, probably a lullaby; it certainly fit the setting.

Fenris blinked slowly before he let his eyes close, pressed against Anders like a child. The lullaby had him relaxing further. Fenris’ movements were slow, languid, as he wrapped an arm around Anders and latched onto his nipple again, sucking gently. 

Despite that it was never meant to be and it probably scored them some disapproval from the Maker, lying like this, bodies close and relaxed, engaging into the most intimate bonding was the most profound experience Anders ever had. Deep inside, sometimes he wondered what it’d be like to become a parent, caring for a child. The Circle did not allow that though, neither did his dangerous life, much less his chosen mate. Right then, however, he thought that he glimpsed that bliss, even if through unorthodox application of magic. 

Fenris was warm against him, pliant, vulnerable, and Anders’ heart was bursting from love. Seeing the steel-hard warrior, who constantly threw glances over his shoulder being like this was a sweet triumph. He felt touched by the amount of trust Fenris was willing to put in him.

Even Justice seemed to calm down, his presence a soothing, warm hum inside instead of the usual nervous buzz or crackling tension.

“My little kitten,” Anders murmured affectionately, caressing Fenris’ head. “You’re so sweet like this. I love you so much. You’re always here to help me.” He leaned a little closer. “When you’re done, there’s still more. Don’t be shy.”

Fenris preened under the praise and sighed happily, pulling away from Anders’ nipple to attend the other one, moaning a little at the taste. He felt cared for and loved, and the arousal that had been almost overwhelming earlier was now just lapping at Fenris’ mind like waves against the beach. The hand on Anders’ back moved down to the mage’s ass, pulling him closer slightly as he started to roll his hips a little. 

“I love you too,” Fenris murmured against Anders’ skin, looking up at him with a wide smile. 

Anders chuckled and wiggled a little, pushing Fenris on his back and leaning above him, propped up on his elbows. His breasts were now in the perfect position for suckling. Moreover, they could easily tangle their legs now. Slowly hardening penises were pressed against thighs and Anders rolled his hips with a soft moan. 

Fenris gasped in pleasure and sighed against Anders’ breasts, continuing to suckle slowly. He wrapped his arm around Anders’ waist to hold him close. Fenris didn’t feel trapped by Anders in this position; on the contrary he felt free, like he was soaring on his happiness. His free hand slipped between the cheeks of Anders’ rear, rubbing against his entrance slowly. 

Anders threw his head back with a gasp, spreading his legs in invitation. His erection twitched and he ran an eager hand through Fenris’ hair. “You little fiend, you,” Anders murmured fondly. “Keep that up. When you’re done with your dinner, we’ll continue with something else.”

Fenris looked up at Anders through his eyelashes with a twinkle in his eyes. He continued the slow circling of Anders’ entrance, applying a little more force before making his touch so light it was barely more than a tease. After a minute, he pulled back from Anders’ breast and bit at both of them. “I'm all done.”

Anders gave him a cheeky grin. “Thank you, dear.” Then, he smashed his lips against the elf’s in a heated kiss. Once he ran out of air, he rolled off Fenris and stood. “Grab the oil; I need to grab something for me.” He sought out his potion to reverse the effect. The taste was still horrible, but not the worst he ever had. 

Once he settled down on the bed, Anders called for his magic to reverse the Creation spell he first used. His breasts shrunk, but they were still noticeable. That was going to pass by the morning though. 

“So- Where were we?” Anders purred.


	13. Fun And Fancy 4

Fenris retrieved a small wooden box from the hidden drawer of the desk and returned to bed. “Here’s the things for your nipple piercings if you want them,” he said as he sat down, crossing his legs and carefully opening the box to show Anders the contents. The two hoops were slim, small but not tiny. Elegant. 

“Don’t ask me such difficult questions,” Anders pouted, tracing the edge of the box. “I want them. They’re going to look great on me. But it’s going to hurt! I hope you have something a little stronger than wine.”

Fenris snorted in amusement. “I do. But it shouldn't hurt that badly. I can get you some whiskey if you really want though,” Fenris said with a smile. He leaned closer to kiss Anders softly, lifting a hand to stroke the mage’s cheek. “What does Justice think?” Fenris asked curiously. 

“As far as I can tell, he’s indifferent about my stupid decisions,” Anders shrugged. “He doesn’t use this body that often, he doesn’t have to concern himself with any sort of ornament until it won’t get in work’s way.” He narrowed his eyes. “Fetch the booze. And I want to see everything that’s going to stab me, I want to make sure they’re properly disinfected.”

Fenris nodded and kissed Anders one more time before he left the room to retrieve the expensive bottle of whiskey that he'd found in the wine cellar, and two glasses. When he returned, he set the glasses down on the bedside table and filled them, leaving his untouched as he handed the other to Anders. “This is the needle we’ll use first,” Fenris said, pointing to a very thin and sharp looking needle. “And then we’ll use this one to make the hole bigger.” He pointed to the other, a thicker one designed for stretching more than piercing. 

“That looks fun,” Anders commented. “We should probably do this by the table, not on the bed. I’m not sure how much blood there will be. For now though-” He raised his glass and knocked back half of it. The strength made him cough. “Huh! That’s some really nice liquor. It’s been a while I had something like this… The Hanged Man doesn’t serve this quality.”

“The Hanged Man wouldn't be able to afford this even if they sold the whole building. Danarius had expensive tastes,” Fenris chuckled, standing and moving to the table. “There shouldn't be any blood but just in case.”

“Now that you mention it, probably not…” Anders thoughtfully refilled his cup and wandered to the table to sit down. “Have you done this before? You’re almost oddly confident. I mean, you’re going to stab a needle into the man you love…” He grinned though, it was just teasing.

“Danarius made me do all of my piercings myself,” Fenris said, almost softly, as he set out everything on the table. “Not exactly easy considering some of the places he wanted them. Foolish, isn't it; how I thought I was in love with him.”

Anders firmly set the cup down, stepped to Fenris, climbed into his lap and hugged him as tight as he could. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to remind you. I love you, Fenris, I truly do, if I ever attempt to commit the same sins as that- madman, kill me. I mean it. You deserve so much better.”

Fenris smiled a little and pulled Anders closer until they were pressed flush together. “I know you do. My past is what it is, I can't change it. It is something I think about constantly; you don't need to worry about reminding me of things. Any anger I feel is not directed towards you in any way, ever. I love you too. Now, cheer up,” Fenris said with a wider smile, kissing Anders softly. 

Anders kissed back then returned to his own seat and finished his whisky. “Alright,” he said, full of determination. “If you endured it, so can I.” He pulled the kit closer and meticulously disinfected everything with a small cleansing spell. “I think we’re good to go. I’m ready.” He sat up straight, back pressed against the back of the chair.

“Good,” Fenris said, planting a final kiss on Anders’ lips before pulling his chair closer and picking up the sharp needle. He worked out the angle needed for the piercing to be straight and said, “Take a deep breath and let it out slowly.” He waited for Anders for breathe out before he pressed the needle through.

He was rewarded with a sharp gasp. Anders tensed up, his eyes going wide for a moment, but he didn’t cry out, merely hissed through clenched teeth.”Probably should have used a spell,” he ground out, fingers grabbing the chair tight. “K-keep going.”

“Okay?” Fenris asked as he gently removed the needle and set it down. “Do you want me to pierce the other one or stretch this one first? You're doing well, amatus, so well.”

Anders mulled it over briefly. “Stretch this one,” he nodded. “I want to know what I have to deal with.” He licked his lips and took a deep breath. “I do hate you a little right now, but it’ll pass.”

“I'll just have to kiss you until that goes away,” Fenris grinned, quickly pecking Anders’ lips before the mage had the chance to stop him. Fenris took the larger needle and lined it up with the hole he'd made, pushing carefully but firmly. 

“That thing you said about it not hurting as much? Lies and slander,” Anders declared once he was able to breathe. Thankfully, the pain ceased a bit once the thicker needle was in place; it was persistent but bearable. Regardless, his bare back was stuck to the back of the chair with sweat and his fingers ached faintly from his death grip. 

“This better be worth it… Keep going, hopefully I won’t feel more pain than what I’m already in.”

“We can do the other a different day if you want. If it hurts that badly, we don't have to do them both today,” Fenris said, hesitating before he finished pushing the needle through, getting the hoop and carefully pushing it through, putting the ball in place to secure it. 

“Don’t make me angry,” Anders breathed. “I just want this to be over as soon as possible, so just do your job, you filthy liar… I don’t know how you survived… you said some of these were at sensitive places. And you did this to yourself…!” He shuddered then reached out to pull Fenris close into a hungry kiss. “I want this,” Anders murmured against the elf’s lips. “No matter the pain, I want this.” He licked his lips. “Once we’re done, you can fuck me to take off the edge.”

“Shall I spank you to distract you from it?” Fenris asked with a grin, kissing Anders firmly. He pulled back a little to kiss Anders’ chest, a few inches above his newly pierced nipple. “I can't wait until these are healed and I can show you how sensitive they can get.” Fenris took the second clean sharp needle and leaned closer, lining it up. “Deep breath.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Anders rolled his eyes, but he obeyed, inhaling deeply. He held onto the prospect of getting spoiled rotten afterwards. And, to be honest, he was excited to see himself with the new accessories. 

Fenris pushed the needle through and out the other side, getting the thicker needle and pushing it through again before he put the hoop in. “There, all done. Do you want more to drink? You did so well, amatus. My mage - my beautiful Anders.”

Anders went limp in the chair, leaning back bonelessly, letting his head roll back and he just panted, chest and stomach rising and falling, his skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. 

“I- Maker, yes. I think I need a drink.” He made no attempt to move though, but at least his breathing was evening out steadily. “Stab me when I agree to something like this again…” He eventually straightened and conjured up a small ice spell, letting the chill breeze lap at his abused chest and sighing from relief. 

Fenris leaned over to retrieve the bottle of whiskey and his glass, refilling Anders’ as he sipped from his own. Setting the glass down on the table, Fenris held his hand out for Anders to take. “Come, I have an idea.” He led Anders to the bed and got the mage to lie down on his back. Holding his hand out, Fenris’ lips twitched with a smirk as he said, “Could I have an ice cube please, love?”

“We hang out too much,” Anders smirked back. It took little more than a snap of his fingers to solidify the moisture in the air into a neat cube and drop it into the waiting hand. “There you go. You know… we should have done it before we started.”

“Even if we spent every single second of every day together, it wouldn't be enough,” Fenris murmured. “I like calling you ‘love’. It's simple. Reminds me that I'm not in Tevinter anymore. Now… I'm going to make you feel good. Just relax.” Fenris straddled Anders’ hips and leaned down to kissed him slowly, teasingly, distracting him with his lips for a few moments before he placed the ice cube on Anders’ throat, dragging it slowly down his neck onto his chest. Fenris followed the path with his mouth, burning hot compared to the ice. 

Anders arched up with delight, moaning softly. The contrast on his skin was so sharp, electrifying. “I didn’t mean that,” He whispered, burying his fingers into Fenris’ hair. “I was referring to the kinkiness. But I like to hear you call me that… It’s a first, you know.”

“How do you know I wasn't like this before?” Fenris grinned against Anders’ skin, nipping where he'd let the ice rest for a few moments. He continued on his path, a few inches behind the ice as he circled Anders’ nipples with it, careful not to let his tongue get too close to the newly pierced flesh. The ice moved down Anders’ stomach, and Fenris let it melt in the mage’s belly button a little before he sucked it out, moving ever lower. 

By then, it was evident that Anders was enjoying himself quite a bit; his loose pants were tenting quite prominently and he shifted, opening his legs wider in invitation. “I’m lucky then,” he mentioned, “to have found a perfect match.” His eyes were burning with lust as he watched Fenris make his way toward the goal, shivering with anticipation.

Fenris continued to circle the ice slowly over Anders’ chest as he undid and pushed down the mage’s trousers. “Shall I torture you with the ice on your cock, even for just a moment? Make you hurt with it before I make it better with my mouth?” Fenris dragged the ice down over Anders’ hips and down the sensitive inside of his thigh. 

Anders twitched and gasped from the sharp sensation, gritting his teeth, but his stirring desire and intense eyes showed clearly that he loved every moment of the treatment. “Haven’t you tortured me enough already?” He lamented regardless. “You delight in my pain, don’t you? Well then, you fiend… do your worst!”

“My goal in life is to make you hurt, obviously,” Fenris teased, proving his humour with a smile and a soft kiss. “My Anders. No one gets to hurt you but me.” Fenris did indeed run the ice ever so quickly over Anders’ cock, leaving it a fraction of a second longer on the underside of the head. He ran his tongue slowly up the cold line. “I wonder how beautifully you'd beg if I put a little ice in your ass. Would you beg me to stop or for more, I wonder…”

“I think I’ll just beg…” Anders arched off the bed, fingers grasping the sheets. “And let you decide which way to take it.” The idea alone sent a jolt of pleasure through him. It’s like the pain opened a dam, and now he craved it, he wanted Fenris to hurt and soothe and he wanted it so much.

Fenris chuckled darkly, the ice pressing against Anders’ balls before Fenris sucked them into his mouth, one then the other, as he teased the ice over Anders’ perineum and around his rim, not quite touching the sensitive skin. Fenris hummed at the sight Anders made, spine arched beautifully. “I love this tight little hole of yours. Sometimes I look at you and want to drag you up and bend you over so I can fuck you, anywhere. Over Varric’s table at the Hanged Man, Hawke’s desk, the wall of your clinic, anywhere and everywhere…”

“Where everyone can see?” Anders gasped. His body relished in the sweet torture and the pain in his chest ceased to matter. Sex was definitely a good painkiller. “Think they could handle the sight? Me with my pants down to my knees, spread out and open, crying from pleasure and you pounding into me, snarling and growling like some beast in heat? Maker, some of them would just explode.”

“I don't care what they could handle. If I want to fuck my mage, I _will_ fuck my mage, and anyone who wants to stop me is welcome to try,” Fenris growled. “Isabela would love it, she'd probably start playing with herself while she watched. Can you imagine Hawke? Do you think he'd ask for a go with you? I wonder if I could just tie you down and blindfold you, invite all our friends to fuck you and you'd have to guess who it was.”

“Promises, promises,” Anders moaned. “You’re all talk, love, you made it clear that you’ll never share me with anyone. Which is a bit flattering, really.” He pulled his legs up, shamelessly putting himself on display for his lover. “The most you’d do is make me strip and lead me around on a leash. Perhaps let them touch me. They would all see how hard I was… Maker, if you just showed me off to all of them, I think I could come.”

Fenris froze suddenly, eyes wide. “No, never. Never that.” Fenris’ touch gentled for a moment before he continued as if nothing had happened. During their talking, the ice had melted down to a small sliver. Fenris bit down on the inside of Anders’ thigh and pushed the ice into him, grinning widely. It wouldn't last long in the heat of Anders’ body but it would definitely provide a brief flash of cold that Fenris was looking forward to soothing. 

Anders bucked, writhing from the sharp bite of cold inside his body and he didn’t restrain his voice, either. “Please!” he begged. “I didn’t mean to- It’s so cold, ah!” The worst of the chill subsided fairly quickly but he was still trembling lightly. “Please no more, please don’t hurt me…!” His body was saying the exact opposite, though.

Fenris grinned, nuzzling into the crease of Anders’ thigh and breathing deeply. “Good boy,” Fenris said softly, kissing along Anders’ cock as he pushed a finger into him to warm the cold. “See, I’m not sure if you actually want me to stop, Anders. You’re still so hard and I love it, but it doesn’t make me think you want me to stop… What do you want, Anders? Tell me what you want. I want to hear it from your mouth.”

Anders licked his lips. The alcohol in his system kicked in, so the words spilled from his lips without hesitation. “Please make me your whore. Fuck me like I’m filthy and useless, use me as you see fit. I want it so much. I want your cock up my ass as far as it can go. Make me beg and cry and...” He licked his lips again, eyes blazing like molten gold. “Then tell everyone what you’ve done to me, that you have a whore desperate for your cock...!”

“Who shall I tell, slut?” Fenris asked, hand reaching up to squeeze Anders’ throat slightly, trailing down over all the bruises he’d left on the mage over the course of the past day. “Hawke? Tell him how his favourite healer is such a whore that he’d bend over for any cock he could find? Should I tell Corff that the quiet cider-drinking apostate just needs _something_ up his ass? Lirene, that her dearest friend would fuck his way through Kirkwall if he could? Why would I even want to touch such a filthy creature? You’re only good for a warm hole, but why should I put my cock in there when it’s so much more than you deserve?”

“Because I beg so nicely?” Anders suggested. He grabbed his legs and pulled them up and apart without shame. “Because you’re so kind and generous and you know that people wouldn’t even touch me, they just spit on me when they pass and I crave cock so much, I might just die without it! And because I’m yours, I’m your filthy whore, so please fuck me until I pass out...!”

Fenris hummed thoughtfully, as if it wasn’t already a given that he was going to fuck Anders. “I suppose it would be cruel to leave such a desperate little cockslut empty for too long,” Fenris mused, trying to stop the slight smirk from curling his lips. “And you do beg wonderfully. I suppose I can lower myself to that level if you need it so badly. Now, slut… Shall I even bother preparing you or shall I just fuck you now if you’re that needy?”

“Please prepare me,” Anders whimpered. “Because it might hurt you otherwise and I don’t want that… I don’t want my beautiful, kind master to be in pain.” He pawed at Fenris’ hand still lingering on his body. “Thank you so much, you’re so generous with this undeserving creature...! Please when you’re done, shove some big toy up my ass so I’ll stop complaining…!”

Fenris paused for a moment, thoughts and feelings rushing through him at being called Master. “You’re a good boy, Anders, I couldn’t leave you unsatisfied, even if you are filthy,” Fenris said, reaching over to the side table to get the oil, making a show of dripping it over his fingers and recorking the vial. “Do you want it like this or on your front with your ass up like the little whore you are? Aren’t I kind for giving you the choice? Say ‘thank you’, Anders.”

The healer sat up, thighs spread wide still and lowered his head. “Thank you, master. Thank you so much, I doN’t deserve your kindness.” Anders got on all fours and turned, presenting his backside eagerly, especially when he lowered his front to the bed, grabbing a pillow to hold onto. He was still mindful of his own chest, making sure nothing will touch his freshly pierced nipples. 

“Like this, master,” he glanced back over his shoulder. “Please make me yours!”

“Good boy,” Fenris said softly, his dry hand grabbing Anders’ cheeks and spreading them to allow him to plunge two fingers into the mage, as deep as he could. “Does that feel good, slut? I know it's not enough for your greedy little hole. Look at you, barely even tight anymore with how much you love getting _fucked_.” It wasn't true and Fenris didn't know where the words were coming from, but he didn't want to stop, especially not with how much Anders was obviously enjoying it. 

“You can still please me just fine, master,” Anders countered smoothly. “I’m sorry for being such a slut, I know I’m disgusting but I just love when there’s something in my hole and I’m covered in cum! Maybe you should take me to the Qunaris… They might pay for something that could satisfy them.”

“Maybe such a big cock would finally be enough to satisfy you. They'd be able to stretch your mouth wide enough to shut you up,” Fenris chuckled. “Wonder if I could tie you down to the bed and just leave you until I wanted you. Come all over you until it dries and you can't get it off, make it so everybody who so much as looks at you knows how much of a whore you are, you'll even smell like me, so I'll know if you even touch someone lose.”

“If I can have you,” Anders panted, starting to get lightheaded from his blood gathering in his head and from the frustration, “I don’t even need anyone else. You take such good care of me. Please…” He wiggled his backside impatiently,” Make me scream your name. Please, master! Please fuck me, please fill me...!”

Fenris added a third finger and spread them wide, pressing them as deep as he could. “Are you ready now, slut? Ready for my cock?” He pulled his fingers free and wiped the remaining oil on his cock, moving to kneel behind Anders, rubbing the tip of his length teasingly over Anders’ hole. 

“Yes, yes, I’m so ready, give it to me, please!” The healer’s fingers nearly tore the sheets. “Fuck me please, fuck me hard, fuck me until I pass out!” He was steadily dripping, probably he wasn’t going to last for long, but that was hardly a concern. 

Fenris chuckled before he began to push into Anders, when he groaned, fingers gripping tightly at Anders’ hips, likely leaving bruises across them. “You feel so good, slut… So hot and even still tight around me,” Fenris said, faking awe. He leaned down over Anders’ back and bit at the back of his neck, using it to hold him still while Fenris fucked into him hard. 

The bit of added savagery merely fueled the pleasure. The position was also perfect for Fenris to practically hammer against Anders’ prostate, and the treatment wrought enthusiastic moans and shouts from the healer. Just as predicted, he didn’t last long; it merely took a few minutes to reach the edge and a couple of firm thrusts pushed him over. Anders screamed, muffling his voice with the pillow and his cock twitched helplessly, spurting wave after wave on the bed.

Fenris merely continued, not even pausing or slowing as he continued to torture Anders’ prostate. The speed, the heat, Anders’ _noises_ , it was too much for Fenris, who came not long after with a loud shout, panting heavily against Anders’ shoulder. When he began to calm down, Fenris pressed kisses all over Anders; his neck, his shoulders, his back, anywhere he could reach after he carefully pulled out. 

Anders was still clutching the pillow for dear life; he was trembling and whimpering. “H-help me up,” he pleaded. “I don’t dare to move.” His limbs felt like jelly and there was no pain, merely some delicious soreness and the slow pulse of fading pleasure in his body.

Fenris chuckled softly and planted a kiss between Anders’ shoulder blades before he sat up and helped Anders up too, running his hands in a soft massage over all of his muscles. “You did very well, amatus. So good for me,” Fenris praised gently, encouraging Anders to lie on his back out of the way of the wet spot now dark on the sheets. “You lie there and I’ll get fresh sheets. I’ll work around you, just stay still for me, okay? I’ll clean you up as well, make you nice and clean again.”

“Are you going to dump me in the tub?” Anders questioned. “No objections… Shit. Why do I love it so much when we do this?” He obeyed though, now moving a muscle until Fenris returned. “You know… If there were a way for you to cut me open and rummage around inside without me dying… I’d probably let you do that. Maker, I’m just…” He made a vague gesture. “I think I’ve lost my mind somewhere along the way. Probably the Chantry’s fault.”

Fenris laughed a little. “I _was_ just going to get a washcloth but I could run a bath if you wanted,” he said as he set the fresh sheets down on the desk chair. “It probably is the Chantry’s fault, although I don't think the life we lead helps with it. But you seem to have forgotten…” Fenris trailed off, leaning over the drag his fingertips through Anders’ skin slightly with a grin. “I can rummage around inside you.”

“Y-yes, that’s what I wanted to suggest.” Anders’ eyes lit up with raw hunger. “You should do that to me… At another time. But preferably sometime soon.” He threw his arms around Fenris’ shoulders and pulled him closer for a kiss. “I’m so glad that we’re together. I trust you so much. I’m so glad you’re here for me, so I don’t have to stand alone.”

Fenris’ wide grin turned into a small, happy smile. “You never have to be alone, not while you have me. I love you.” He kissed Anders back softly and nuzzled into his neck. “Now, let me go and get a cloth to clean us both with now that you’ve rubbed your filth and sweat all over me.” Fenris chuckled slightly and pecked Anders on the lips again before setting him down on the bed and slipping into the bathroom to wet a cloth. 

Upon Fenris’ return, the elf began to clean Anders, wiping him clean gently. “So… ‘Master’, is it?” Fenris asked carefully, glancing up at Anders for only a second. 

Anders blinked. “I- shouldn’t call you that? You didn’t say anything before and- I like the thought of being owned. By you, I mean.” He bit his lower lip, concerned. “Does hearing it make you uncomfortable…?”

Fenris was quiet for a few moments as he considered his answer. “No, not anymore. I feel like it _should_ but… it doesn’t. Funny, isn’t it? I like to think about taking care of you, about you being mine, but it’s not the same as slavery. I want you to be mine, but I don’t want to _own_ you, not in the way it means. I like hearing that you trust me that much.”

“Taking care of me? That’s so sweet.” Anders smiled warmly. “I should have know that. You’re always so eager to spoil me with everything, food, affection, luxury items…” He chuckled. “No, it’s not slavery, it’s like owning a pet. You care for them, and they care for you in return. Even right now… you’re cleaning me up. It does feel nice. Oh! So it’s one of the things that you like, remember, we’ve discussed kinky things before and you still have to give me directions.”

Fenris blushed slightly and nodded. “I know. I’m still learning what I want, what I like. The most I know for definite is that I want you. My Anders,” Fenris murmured. “Come on, up, let me change the sheets and then cuddle you until we fall asleep.”

“Yes, that sounds great,” Anders agreed. “Though you might want to give me some tips about how care for my nipples now.”


	14. Freedom Fight

Fenris woke slowly, reality tugging gently at his mind, Fade strands still trying to hold onto him. The light that poured in through the window reminded him that he needed to replace that curtain but for now Fenris simply pressed closer to the heat in front of him and closed his eyes again, breathing deeply. Anders was a soft presence in his arms, the warmth of his body and the softness of his skin so enticing that Fenris simply couldn't help the way his hands skimmed over the mage’s pale skin. He traced old scars and joined up freckles with his fingertip. A morning erection - a phenomenon that had only begun when Anders moved in - made Fenris touch a little more, pressing his hips forward slightly. Even now he'd barely opened his eyes; Fenris knew Anders’ body in the dark, he didn't need to see what he was doing. 

He nuzzled into the crook of Anders’ neck and kissed softly at his skin, trying to rouse the mage slowly. 

The gentle treatment worked well; Anders stirred, yawned and a slow smile spread out on his lips as his waking consciousness picked up and identified all the pleasant sensations. He wiggled a little, to get closer to Fenris.

“Morning,” he murmured, refusing to open his eyes. “Slept well?” A shiver ran through his insides when he noticed the hardness pressing against the back of his thigh.

Fenris purred sleepily and nodded. “With you, always. Although, sleeping beside you does cause some other pleasant side effects,” Fenris grinned, rubbing himself against Anders’ rear. “Will you let me spoil you this morning?”

“Mmmyes, spoiling sounds good.” Anders all but melted back against his lover. In the past weeks, they had to be careful, minding Anders’ slowly healing chest. Healing spells were out of the question; they didn’t work well with something in the wound, and they would’ve closed up the holes without something in the skin. So Anders resorted to poultices and as less touching as possible. 

It was a good opportunity for conversation, lessons and lots of kissing. Fenris was becoming better with every day with reading and writing, while Anders now understood most of the Tevene texts he could lay his hands on. The bonding was wonderful; it truly brought them closer, they understood each other better now. It was also a great opportunity to discuss future naughty endeavors. 

Right now, it seemed innocent enough though: a soft, warm bed, morning sunlight, a pleasant drowsiness and Fenris’ erection nudging him. Anders was perfectly content with his life. “Please spoil me rotten, and then some more.”

Fenris chuckled softly and kissed Anders’ throat, mouthing slightly at the skin as he began to rock his hips gently against Anders. He kept the movements lazy, relaxing as he touched Anders all over, running his palms along his inner thigh and along his ribs, teasing against his cock and only brushing over his nipples. 

At first, Anders just hummed, almost sinking back into a blissful half-asleep state, but the last touch made him snap awake with a gasp. Fenris used to touch the nipples carefully, to test if they healed. It usually hurt, so they refrained from bothering it. Right then, however, there was no pain. Quite on the contrary. The featherlight contact sent a shock through Anders. His eyes opened wide and he twitched.

“Oh! W-would you mind doing that again?”

“That feel good?” Fenris grinned as he carefully circled Anders’ nipple, one and then the other. Fenris added a firm suck to his throat to the sensation, nipping at his earlobe. “They look better, less red. Can't wait until they're completely healed so I can tug on them, twist them and make you whine.”

“Looks like all the pain is paying off,” Anders agreed wholeheartedly. “They feel better, too. Very good in fact.” He moaned, tipping his head back and took Fenris’ hand, to pull it between his thighs. 

“You make me feel so good,” Anders purred, stretching a little, shifting into a position that yielded more of his body to Fenris. “Can you feel it? Just a few touches and I’m already interested.”

Fenris hummed happily, his fingers stroking slowly up the underside of Anders’ cock. “Beautiful. Just let me take care of you, relax.” Fenris did as he said, hand wrapping around Anders’ length to stroke him steadily. He pulled away after a minute to gently play with Anders’ nipples again before he shifted in order to circle the mage’s entrance with his finger. 

Anders moaned softly and shivered, going almost boneless, to enjoy it even more. “I can’t wait to try all the things we talked about,” He murmured, burying his face halfway into a pillow. “Just the talking got us so hard.” Often enough, their time together ended with them fondling themselves or each other, to relieve tension. There was a lot of tension in Kirkwall’s air, nasty missions, tragedies, political unrest, and they sought to escape it together.

Fenris grinned and sucked a small bruise into Anders’ throat as he applied a little more pressure, still not entering him. “Even the thought of doing anything with you gets me hard, let alone talking about it. Fuck, it's like I can _feel_ it in my mind, imagine what it's going to be like,” Fenris sighed, pulling away and reaching over to grab the oil, slicking his fingers and pushing one into Anders as far as he could. 

“I still haven’t lost my touch then,” Anders moaned with delight, shuddering at the insertion. “A-ah, yes, that’s nice,” he breathed. “Tease me until I fall apart. Or just shove your fist into my ass, whatever.” He giggled at the joke. “If you could just- somehow merge into me, your full body inside… that’d be close enough. Feeling you everywhere, your heart beating with mine…” He absent-mindedly sucked a fingertip into his mouth. “That’s a lovely thought.”

Fenris groaned slightly at the feeling of Anders’ mouth around his finger. The soft suction of it made him think of having his cock in that wet heat instead of his fingertip. Fenris flickered his lyrium teasingly, just enough to make Anders feel it but not enough for it to affect himself. “Do you trust me, amatus?” Fenris purred against Anders’ ear, pulling his finger out of his entrance to tease around his rim again. 

“Yes,” Anders sighed softly, his tongue lapping at the marked digit. He glanced back over his shoulder at the elf, eyes hooded, blinking slowly. “I trust you with my life. I also love your taste.” He rolled his hips against the sheets. “And your touches. I’m yours.” His eyes closed fully and he relaxed completely, pale body littered with markings of its own beautifully pliant underneath Fenris. 

“As I am yours,” Fenris said softly, pausing to turn Anders’ face so he could kiss him, deep and slow, until Fenris was breathless. “Now you relax and let me make you feel good.”

Fenris lit the lyrium in his hand, the focused activation making it throb slightly, but bearably. He let two fingers slip into Anders’ entrance. It was an odd feeling, and it took a few moments but Fenris found Anders’ prostate and began to stroke it from every angle he could. 

“A-ahh-!” Anders’s back curved, both his shoulders and ass rising subtly. He clutched the pillow tighter, pressing the side of his face into it. His brows knitted and his lips parted, expression looking painful but his voice and how he wiggled his backside made it clear that it was pleasure and not agony.

“Oh, that feels extraordinary,” he breathed. “Oh Fenris-!” He keened when the elf pressed down a little harder.

“The noises you make...” Fenris hummed in appreciation and continued with what he was doing, nipping at Anders’ ear and sucking soft kisses down to his throat, where he left gentle bites as he played inside Anders. “I love your noises and the way you writhe for me, it’s beautiful. Lets me know just how desperate you are for it.”

“Not desperate enough yet,” Anders raised a hand. “But if you keep that up… Mmm.” He began to roll his hips, gently rocking back and forth, enhancing the experience. “Oh yes…” his breathy moans and little shuddering gasps were like music. “I could do this for hours… Fenris, love- You’re so gentle, I love it…!”

“Well, I couldn't risk breaking you, could I? Not even you could heal the damage I can cause like this. You like that thought though, don't you? The idea that I can positively destroy you, break you, hurt you. You know I won't but there's always a chance, isn't there?” Fenris purred, keeping all of his movements slow and languid. “Do you think you could come from the danger and the feeling alone?”

“Hmm, I don’t know…” Anders mulled it over. “Maybe. Maybe. But you’d have to do better than this… This is lovely. I’d need some actual sense of danger.” His interest was piqued, it was apparent from his his eyes started to gleam and he licked his lips, quickly but hungrily.

“Roll over onto your back for me,” Fenris said as he pulled his hand back and moved out of the way to make room for Anders. He waited for Anders to get into position and moved to sit between the mage’s legs, relighting his lyrium and returning his fingers to Anders’ prostate. Fenris let his other hand stroke Anders’ cock once before he began to rub his hand up his chest slowly, through fine blond hair to Anders’ throat, where he let his hand settle for a moment, just enough pressure for Anders to feel it. The hand moved from around his neck back down his chest and Fenris lit the lyrium in his other hand, just enough to allow his fingers to sink through Anders’ skin to drag over his ribs. 

Anders arched up a little with a loud gasp. His eyes widened and grew heated with desire, staring at Fenris wildly. His breathing picked up but he forced himself to relax, hands settling limply by his sides. Anders’ cock twitched from the pleasure, gathering more blood and darkening with it to an attractive shade. “That’s… Now you’re trying,” Anders admitted. “Fenris… I’ve wanted this for so long. Don’t mind me, just experiment-” He squeezed his eyes shut with an annoyed huff. “I want to tell you to be a magister, just do it without any restraint, see how I react, but I know it doesn’t sit well with you…”

“I can't be a Magister for you, but I can be yours,” Fenris said, leaning down to kiss Anders’ stomach. “You tell me to stop, say your watchword, or anything that tells me you aren't enjoying this, I'm going to pull back, okay? I take care of my mage.” Fenris paused what he was doing to lean up and kiss Anders softly on the lips. “ _My_ mage.” Lighting the rest of his hand, Fenris carefully pressed it in to stroke over Anders’ heart. He continued to play with Anders’ prostate, pressing a little more firmly occasionally to taunt him. 

Anders cried out from the double stimulation; Fenris could feel his heart starting to beat faster, a frenzied rhythm against his palm. He closed his eyes and panted but didn’t say a word. How he pulled his knees up and spread his thighs spoke louder than anything. 

Fenris pulled his fingers back from Anders’ prostate and let the lyrium in them die down before he plunged two into Anders’ entrance, spreading them as wide as he could against the tightness of Anders. “I won't even need to fuck you, look at you,” Fenris chuckled. “Perhaps I should make you come and then fuck you while you're all relaxed.”

“Do… as you please…” Anders licked his lips again, eyes half closed. “Master… I’m yours, your property, every inch of my body serves you. Use me as you see fit… Take your gauntlet and tear me to ribbons, I don’t mind.”

Fenris was silent as he continued to touch Anders, torn between arousal and self-loathing at Anders’ words, before deciding just to ignore both feelings and carry on as he was. “Maker, you're beautiful… My good boy. No one else gets to see you like this, touch you like this.” He chuckled and wiggled his lyrium-infused fingers a little inside Anders’ chest. “No one else _can_ touch you like this.”

“Y-yes...!” The healer tensed up again, throwing his head back. “No-one, only you… Please touch me more, I want to feel you everywhere!” He absolutely craved it. The feeling was indescribable, he could feel the fingers around his heart, they subtly brushed his lungs and Maker, he wanted more. He was expecting some excruciating pain but it never came, only the buzz of the lyrium lapped against his flesh and it was driving him wild. The gauntlet would have really been the only thing to make it better with the sharp talons able to easily tearing up anything soft. 

“You know, my gauntlets are lyrium-infused so they phase with me. It wouldn't hurt but you'd be able to feel the points of them,” Fenris suggested, although he continued as he was, squeezing Anders’ heart slightly in his hand. “If you want.”

“Maker, yes,” Anders was way too quick to agree. “I- don’t mind if you scratch the skin, I can heal that in a heartbeat, but those things… they’re wicked. If you want to see me come without you touching me, get them.” Anders grinned a little. “I think Justice is interested too… I can feel him swirling inside me. You woke him up.”

Fenris didn't know what was more disturbing, his interest or casual humour that the spirit was… participating, at least to some extent. He pulled his hands back and leaned down to kiss Anders briefly. “Stay there,” Fenris ordered, going over to his armour stand and retrieving his gauntlets. He settled between Anders’ legs again and pulled one on. Very carefully, as if Anders were glass, Fenris slid one claw of his gauntlet down the centre of Anders’ chest. The red line that showed was dark, but there was no blood. 

Anders closed his eyes for the full effect, and it was amazing. Cold steel tracing his body, with a weight to it, sending signals through his nerves: cold, hurts, dangerous. He could easily picture an expression just as cold on Fenris’ face; overactive imagination sometimes was a bliss. 

“Please,” Anders breathed, “Please. I need it. I want to feel it. Please Fenris…!”

Fenris chuckled and lit the lyrium up to his elbow, waiting a moment just to ensure that the gauntlet had phased too; it had never really mattered before but it was vital now. Fenris dragged the talons through Anders’ flesh, carefully cradling his heart in the cold steel. He stayed silent, even as he pushed two fingers back into Anders to keep stretching him steadily. 

As always, Anders writhed beautifully, squirming from the unsettling feeling of lyrium energy and cold steel around his heart. It set him on the edge, it made him tremble, and he wished he could see it, his own beating heart trembling in Fenris’ hand. It was also symbolic - he belonged to the elf and this little game was actually the ultimate display of ownership. It carried no negative meaning though. This was an act of free will. 

The slight burning sensation in his backside was something that Anders could no longer ignore. “Fuck me, Fenris,” he gasped. “Keep your hand inside and fuck me.”

“Just after two fingers?” Fenris asked, spreading said fingers and stroking inside Anders. “It'll hurt.” He carefully squeezed Anders’ heart a little more, allowed the tips of his gauntlets to touch the flesh. 

The desperate whimper sounded convincing enough. “No, it won’t! You’ve fucked me enough times already and I have toys and my own fingers, I’m ready! Add enough oil and get inside me! I n-need to touch you.” A bit of panic started to creep in and Anders didn’t want the mood to get lost in it. “Please, Fenris, please, please, please…!”

Fenris pulled his hands back to hold Anders’ face. “Calm down, love. I'm going to fuck you, I promise. I'm just going to get the oil, okay?” Fenris picked up the oil and coated his cock with it, positioning it so he could push in and fuck him while still having access to Anders’ heart. Fenris teased along Anders’ body, making his way back up to his chest before he took hold of his heart again. 

Anders in turn grabbed the elf’s shoulders, gasping with relief. Now, everything was perfect. His needy hole filled, his heart trembling in the grasp of a taloned gauntlet, which wasn’t reassuring at all, because with his focus on other things, Fenris’ control could have easily slipped. But there was a thought, a silent reminder in the back of Anders’ mind: he survived something like that before. Anders couldn’t help but chuckle when he realized where the thought came from. 

“What are you laughing at?” Fenris asked with a small grin as he leaned down to nuzzle against Anders’ cheek, carefully shifting his hand. “Good boy, you're doing well. You just lie still and I'll take care of you, okay?” Fenris was so careful as he began to move his hips, moving his hand too so the movements of Anders’ body didn't make Fenris pull at his organs. 

“Justice assured me that I can’t die, even if you lose focus,” Anders replied, his eyes drifting shut. “We’ve been stabbed in the chest once. Hnnh, it feels so good!” He slipped his long legs around Fenris’ waist. “Making love, I mean, not getting stabbed. Don’t even listen to me, just continue spoiling me.”

Fenris snorted in amusement. “Fool mage,” he murmured, the words all affection and no bite. “I could stab you, if you so desired. I could do whatever you wanted. Whatever _I_ wanted.” Fenris used his other hand to hold Anders’ shoulder, holding him still as best he could so Fenris could speed up without having to worry too much about ripping out Anders’ heart. That was something Fenris wasn't sure Anders could fix. 

Anders didn’t appear to be particularly worried. He didn’t open his eyes, merely smiled and held onto Fenris, one hand on the elf’s shoulder, the other caressing the nape of his neck.

“I love you,” Anders breathed. ‘I’m so glad we’re together.”

“Me too. I love you,” Fenris sighed softly as he settled into a slow rhythm, rolling his hips and pressing close to Anders to push his cock in as far as he could. “Maker, you feel good… So tight and warm. So beautiful too. My Anders…” 

After that, words became unnecessary. Anders subtly moved into every thrust, eyes still closed, lips parted, face relaxed, even as pleasure intensified. The lyrium-marked hand inside of him didn’t feel entirely alien; the magical energy tingling over his insides was reminiscent of Justice’s presence. 

Speaking of Justice, for once, it didn’t feel like he had even the slightest objections. Anders felt like they became closer to communicating, like once before. The spirit was calm now, relishing in the song of lyrium.

As the peak drew near, Anders opened his eyes, to look at his lover. “I’m close,” he whispered. “Make me come, Fenris.”

Fenris released Anders’ shoulder and instead took hold of his cock, stroking steadily in time with his thrusts, paying special attention to the underside of the head, rubbing his thumb there gently. Fenris watched hungrily, not wanting to miss the moment when orgasm caught Anders in its grip. Close himself, Fenris sped up slightly, biting his lip to try and hold off long enough to make Anders come first. 

He didn’t have to wait long. Each tug made Anders gasp, his eyes widen and suddenly, his legs tightened around Fenris. The healer’s body trembled subtly and he let out a long, strained moan, but he kept looking into Fenris’ eyes and it seemed like stars were exploding behind the honey brown irises. His seed burst forth in long ropes, drenching his stomach and chest and his heart in Fenris’ grip trashed from extortion. 

Fenris moaned softly, biting his lip at the sight of Anders. He released Anders’ cock and his heart, moving his hands to the mage’s hips to hold him still while Fenris fucked into him, groaning and growling softly until he came too, filling Anders with his seed. Fenris leaned down to kiss Anders as he worked himself through the orgasm with little aborted thrusts. “I love you,” Fenris breathed quietly. 

“Yes,” Anders nodded, with a bright smile. “Yes, I know.”

The morning continued peacefully after that; they cleaned up, dressed and sat down to breakfast. They were almost finished when they noticed an odd noise - someone was banging at the front door. The nose wasn’t impatient or aggressive, but certainly persistent - whoever it was, they had business with the owner of the manson. 

Anders quirked a brow. “I didn’t know you were expecting anyone, love.”

“Neither did I,” Fenris said, confused. He set down his food and went to answer the door. The messenger at the door held out an envelope and waited even after Fenris took it. Fenris got a few silvers out of the small pouch on his belt and handed it over. “A letter. Will you read it to me? My literacy is still a work in progress.”

“Liar,” Anders rolled his eyes. “You can read just fine.” Still, he opened the envelope and glanced at the note inside. “It’s short- ‘Dear brother-’” He glanced up at Fenris with a worried look. “‘I have arrived to Kirkwall and found the place you mentioned. I’ll be waiting for you all day, as long as I have to. Please come, I long to see you. Varania’.” He held out the letter for Fenris to take. “Would you like me to come along…?”

Fenris took the letter with shaky hands that would have prevented him from reading the letter had he even tried. “I… Can we… I'd like to go today. I want… Hawke and…” He fell silent, staring at the letter blankly. “I never… I sent a letter but I never hoped for a response. I thought Hadriana was lying, like the evil bitch she is. Was.”

Anders stood and stepped to Fenris, to hug him. “It’s alright. It’s alright. Everything will be fine, we’ll go with you. Maybe this will bring some memories back, wouldn’t that be great?” He kissed the top of the elf’s head. “It’s going to be fine. She wants to see you, too. I’ll be by your side.” He tipped Fenris’ head up, to look at him and smiled. “A few more bites then we’ll go to Hawke. He won’t have the slightest objections.”

Fenris nodded and pulled Anders into his lap, holding the mage close and burying his face in his neck. “Thank you, for offering to come. I didn't want to ask… I don't know what I'd do without you. My Anders.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Anders murmured. “We’ll protect you.”

Hawke didn’t ask anything; when they explained the situation to him, he asked for a moment then came back fully dressed, ready for adventure. The trip to the Hanged Man was quiet; none of them felt inclined to talk. At a point, Hawke raced ahead to call out Varric, just for a safety measure. That crossbow could end arguments quite quickly. 

Anders squeezed Fenris’s hand. “Are you alright?”

“No,” Fenris admitted with a brief self deprecating laugh, glancing around the tavern when they entered. 

A slight, red-haired elf woman approached them after a moment. “It is you,” she said softly, regret in every tone. 

Fenris blinked, memories flashing before his eyes. “Varania. You-- We played together as children. I don't… You called me Leto,” Fenris said breathlessly, lyrium humming painfully. 

“You remember.” She smiled a little but it faded quickly. She stepped back as Hawke approached them and backed away, shaking her head.

Anders sensed the danger a moment before Hawke spoke up. “Something isn’t right, we should-”

“I’m sorry it came to this, Leto,” Varania whispered painfully. She glanced towards the stairs. 

The man descending on them was not young, but he carried himself with much pride. His rich robes and the staff on his back identified him as a Tevinter mage; and there was little doubt about his identity. 

“My little Fenris,” he addressed the elf with a smile. “Predictable as always.”

Fenris froze where he was. He had considered a trap of course, some bounty hunters lying in wait, but he had never expected the Magister himself. Fenris’ markings flared painfully at the sight of Danarius, the man’s magic painful in such close proximity. 

“Danarius,” Fenris breathed softly. 

Danarius ignored the use of his name rather than title. “Is this the man you've replaced me with, pet?” Danarius asked as he reached the bottom step, looking Anders up and down. “Another mage, at least. You can't handle not being owned, can you, little one?” He turned to Anders. “He's very talented, isn't he? I'm sure you've been making full use of his… abilities.”

Anders visibly shuddered, trying with all his might to keep Justice back from emerging. It wouldn’t have been good to reveal his existence too soon. The rage that welled up inside him was a sickening wave of heat, suffocating him. He had to swallow before speaking up. 

“Fenris belongs to no-one but himself,” he rasped. “If you came here to find a slave, you’ve come in vain.”

Danarius chuckled, the sound not unlike Fenris’ so it was clear where the elf had got it from, but the Magister’s was slimy and made one’s skin crawl. Fenris himself was too busy trying to remember how to breathe through the terror so he didn't pass out. 

“You led him here,” Fenris said through gritted teeth, looking up to glare at Varania, his so-called sister. 

Hawke’s strong hands grasped his arms to keep him from doing anything foolish. Varania looked stricken with grief and Danarius tsked. “Don’t be angry with your sister, she merely did what a good Tevinter citizen should.” He tipped his head up and regarded both Hawke and Anders with an even gaze. “I know business is business, so let me offer you a fair price for the lad. How about- five sovereigns?”

“Oh come on, he’s worth at least forty,” Hawke mocked, his smile dripping venom. Anders on the other hand, simply reached his limits. He threw the reins to Justice and the spirit emerged like a furious dragon, filling Anders’ eyes with blue light. 

“Enough is enough!” Justice spat at Danarius. “Fenris will stay with us, and you shall be punished for all the crimes you have committed!”

Fenris cried out slightly in surprise as the feeling of Justice so close pulled at his already sensitive lyrium, one knee buckling as he tightened his grip on Hawke. It took a few moment for him to feel stable but when he did, he drew his sword and readied himself as he would any battle. And if the grip Fenris had on his sword was tighter than usual, nobody needed to know. 

“I had hoped to do this without bloodshed,” Danarius said casually as he drew his staff, eyeing Justice curiously with a hint of trepidation. “Nonetheless, it's time to return home, Fenris. Deal with your companions and then return.”

Fenris shook his head determinedly and stepped forward. “No. This is my home. You need to _fuck off_ ,” he hissed, revelling in the strong language that he rarely used.

“I will not tolerate this insolence!” Danarius roared, and he raised his staff. 

The resulting battle quickly rendered the place to ruins. Danarius had henchmen, but they were swiftly dealt with by Hawke. Varric helped with a few well-timed shots, but Danarius’ magic made him less effective than he liked. 

Anders and Justice attacked with rarely seen fury; there was no holding back, every single spell was meant to deal maximum damage. Danarius proved to be a powerful foe, but the odds slowly shifted towards the spirit and his host. A burst of energy that made everybody stumble sent the magisted to the ground; he was pale, panting, not quite as cocky as he had been a few minutes ago. 

“Crush your chains, Fenris!” Justice rumbled. “Slay him!”

Fenris met the spirit’s eyes for a moment before he stepped forward and pulled Danarius to his knees by his hair, making sure to tug and pull for good measure. “You are _not_ my master,” Fenris growled before his lyrium flashed and his hand plunged into Danarius’ chest, crushing the heart in his grip before he ripped it out. 

Watching with sick amusement and joy, Fenris stood over Danarius’ body as the magister gasped and seized in a death that Fenris had ensured would be agonisingly painful. When the man ceased breathing, Fenris stood still for a few moments before he rounded on Varania, rage flaring in his eyes again as his bloodied hands curled into fists. 

“This is your fault,” Fenris said with a voice so calm it was obvious he was seething inside. 

Varania had watched the battle from the side, unable or unwilling to move; perhaps both. When Danarius fell, her eyes went wide with disbelief and they frosted over in horror as Fenris approached. 

“I had no choice!” She stammered as she inched away from him until her back hit the wall. “He was going to make me his apprentice, I would have been a magister! You have no idea what we went through!” she wailed, eyes brimming with tears. ”What I had to do since mother died! This was my only chance!”

“To sell out your own brother to the man who _tortured_ him for a decade, the man who--!” Fenris stopped, teeth grinding and jaw clenching as he took deep breaths. “If it was your only chance, it was your last.”

Fenris stepped forward, lyrium flaring. Hawke shouted his name somewhere behind him. 

“Fenris, she’s your sister, you don’t--” Hawke started, trying to get over as quickly as he could from the other side of the tavern where he’d been finishing off a guard.

“She is no _sister_ of mine,” Fenris hissed, eyes burning with rage.

“No, but she had been.” Justice walked closer at a casual pace; the fight was over. “There is no need to strike her down. Let her go, Fenris. Justice had been done. The tyrant is dead and she’s already punished… She lost the last thing she still had.”

Fenris glared at the spirit, warring between ripping the thing out of Anders and killing Varania before he eventually just turned and stormed out, slamming the door of the Hanged Man behind him, fuming all of the way back to Hightown. On a normal day, people stayed out of his way due to reputation alone but today rage and frustration flooded out of him in an almost palpable tension, making anyone move aside as he approached. It suited Fenris just fine. When he returned to the mansion, he threw open the door and went straight for the near-empty bottle of wine sat on the small table between the armchairs in front of the fireplace, launching it at the wall. It shattered, wine staining the stonework but it wasn’t enough. 

Thankfully, the mansion still had a considerable amount of junk laying about. 

Nearly an hour later, Anders carefully entered the building. He helped Hawke and Varric to clean up, while pondering what sort of consequences it could have, to kill a Tevinter Magister. Varric suggested they sell the corpse to the Qunari, for target practice. 

Hawke, the ever helpful champion has sent Varania on her way. They didn’t give her much direction; she really didn’t deserve it. The money Fenris had sent her was enough to get her back to Tevinter, where she could carry on with her life, with the knowledge that her last remaining relative never wanted to do anything with her. 

“Fenris?” Anders questioned, peeking into the bedroom. He deliberately waited so long to give the elf some time to blow off steam. “Are you here?”

Fenris turned. “Let Justice out,” he all but demanded. They weren’t the words he had intended, nor was he sure where they had come from, but they were out now and Fenris couldn’t change that. He wanted to rage and scream at the spirit for stopping him from enacting his own _justice_. 

Anders took a step back. “Why-” he began but the pulses of his companion’s energy made him trail off. “Alright. He took a deep breath and let himself be pushed back, so Justice could appear. 

“I’m listening, Fenris.” Justice was calm, standing tall in Anders’ body.

Striding up to the spirit inhabiting his lover’s body, Fenris grabbed that ridiculous coat and pushed Justice against the wall, taking a breath to begin his rant before he realised that the lyrium in his skin was glowing as brightly as the cracks in Anders’. The normally constant dull ache was gone, replaced only with a pleasurable tingle all down his spine. Anger suddenly sapped away, Fenris was surprised to find lust, of all things, in it’s place. The urge to kiss Justice was something he’d never felt before, but there was no stopping the almost clumsy way he did so, pressing against Justice in a way that made him groan from the feeling in his lyrium. 

The spirit seemed just as surprised; his glowing eyes went wide, he froze, and his hands grabbed Fenris to push him away… But it never happened. Justice didn’t return the kiss, but he allowed it to happen, his fingertips sliding down over the elf’s bare arm, tracing glowing lines there. 

Fenris shivered slightly at the feeling of Fade-laced fingers touching his lyrium, the room bright with their combined glow. He pulled away, cheeks slightly flushed and averted his gaze. “That… wasn’t meant to happen,” Fenris said slowly, hands clutching Anders’ - Justice’s? - coat.

“I suppose it wasn’t.” The spirit appeared contemplating. “I was under the impression that I wouldn’t allow such violation of privacy, but I’m still not upset. I’d like to gain some insight why you suddenly felt the need to initiate such contact though. You specifically made a request for my presence and in the past, you haven’t been so… welcoming.” Maybe it was a trick of the mind, but Fenris could have sworn Justice’s lips twitched, curling upward faintly.

“I don't know,” Fenris snapped before he sighed slightly, loosening his grip on the coat. “I'm sorry. I just… You stopped me from killing my-- from killing Varania. I don't know whether to thank you or punch you. I don't… You… You make my lyrium stop hurting. Only Anders’ magic can do that for a little while, but you-- It feels almost good.”

“Oh.” Justice tipped his head to the side. “That’s interesting. I’m sure Anders would love the theorize about that. I’m- also glad my presence helps you somewhat.” He raised a tentative hand, to lay it on Fenris’ shoulder lightly. 

“You have had your justice,” the spirit explained. “Your tormentor wasn’t Varania - it was Danarius, and you killed him in a fair fight, with your own hands. She did betray you, but in turn, she lost her opportunities, and she lost you. She’ll live with the guilt.” His voice turned almost soft. “So you won’t have to.”

Fenris nodded a little, feeling calmer and almost… accepting of it. “Yes. I suppose so. Thank you, then. I probably would have… regretted it as soon as it was done. I-- wanted to find my life. My family, my memories. But it turns out that what has been forgotten is best left that way. There is nothing but pain.”

“You have made yourself a new life,” Justice rumbled quietly. “Here, with Anders. He loves you, and we know you love him. You freed yourself, you don’t have to run anymore. You’ve found true strength in your friends. The past doesn’t matter - now you can set your sight on the future.” He hesitated for a moment. “I’d like to thank you for the kiss.”

Fenris snorted in amusement. “It wasn't a particularly good one. But you're welcome. If the family of my birth won't have me, I suppose I'll have to make a new one of my own, no?” Fenris asked, peeking up at Justice slightly. Anders was more family to him than Varania was, and he likely cared more too. 

“I’m glad you’re able to look ahead,” Justice nodded. “And for the record, I have no previous experience with kissing, so this one was acceptable. Now I should probably give Anders back to you… So you could celebrate… or just cuddle up and calm down, whichever you prefer. Please remember that if your lyrium hurts, you can always request my presence.”

“I… thank you. I'll bear that in mind. It's good to know that my kisses are ‘acceptable’,” Fenris said, lips curling in a slight smile. “Thank you, again. For your assistance against Danarius, and after. I… don't think I can ever repay you.”

“Perhaps one day you can show me a kiss that’s more than acceptable.” With that, the spirit was gone, leaving a stunned Anders behind. 

The healer licked his lips. “Would you look at that. You free yourself and the first thing you do is hitting on my spirit.”

With a relieved laugh, Fenris smiled and pressed himself flush against Anders, burying his face in the mage’s neck. “It was an accident. I intended to argue with it. Him. Thank you, as well. If you hadn't been there… It's done now. I feel… less overjoyed than I thought I would. I feel no different.”

“Give it a little time,” Anders murmured, curling his arms around his lover. “It was too sudden, too much to comprehend. But I’m here for you. For a change, let me spoil you rotten.”

Fenris lifted his hand to cup Anders’ cheek, guiding him into a soft, gentle kiss, so very unlike the rough and clumsy thing he'd had with Justice. “I suppose I can allow that,” Fenris eventually said when he pulled back, grinning a little. 


	15. A Life Reclaimed

“I can’t believe you did this again!”

Anders sat on the bed he had been sharing with Fenris for quite a time by now, and stared at the things laid out before him. Jewelry, mostly delicate chains. A sheer silk shirt with a long sash.

“It is definitely a good thing that I love it when you’re spoiling me with gifts,” Anders continued. “You might need to help me with the jewelry, but the skirt…” he blushed, a wide grin splitting his face. “Sweet Andraste, I’m going to look so _pretty_!”

It’s been a few weeks since Fenris’ former master had perished by the elf’s own hands and the previous tensions did not dissipate from Kirkwall. The time was ripe for confrontation; the seneschal kept nagging Fenris about the mansion and Anders had a near miss with some templars while springing mages from the Gallows. They had little time for each other, and that was spent with quiet cuddling for the most part, simply out of necessity. By now, they both felt the need for something new, and it looked like Fenris had an idea. 

“Have I mentioned that I can dance?” Anders drawled, leaning closer to his lover. “I think these lovely things would accentuate my movements _just right_.”

Fenris chuckled a little, half-heartedly. Watching Anders enjoy and explore his new gifts was always a delight but this time he was… distracted. He took hold of Anders’ hand and looked down at their entangled fingers, thoughts racing through his mind and words pressing against his tongue with the desire to talk. “I'm glad you like it all,” Fenris said with a smile, glancing up at Anders. “I thought you'd like more clothes. I should get you a new coat too, yours is falling apart. I found feathers in my leggings the other day, you know?” 

Anders threw his head back and laughed. “One of these days, you’ll find _me_ in those leggings… after having to dress too quickly.” He lifted Fenris’ hand to his lips to kiss the knuckles. “I- wouldn’t say no to clothes. Something that isn’t a skirt, at least. People would get the wrong idea if I went out wearing this.” The fabric was basically transparent.

“Maybe I’d look better in darker colors,” Anders mused. “I’m a serious apostate, after all! In a serious relationship. I’m still stunned the others haven’t noticed. Might be the lack of black spots on my body? You should remedy that sometime.” His grin was wicked as he curled his arms around Fenris’ waist. “It’s been a while we did anything… The last one was you grabbing my heart, like it was your possession… which it is. Do you think we could try role games again? You don’t have to be a villain.”

“I… Anders, there's something I wish to ask you,” Fenris said after a few moments of silence, heart racing loudly until he was sure Anders would be able to hear it, or feel it under his skin. “You must promise not to… laugh, or… anything like that. It's… important.”

“If I laugh, it won’t be mocking,” Anders clarified. “You know you can tell me anything. I don’t think there’s anything that could faze me, after all the stuff we already did…!” He lovingly caressed Fenris’ hair. “Just spit it out, love, and we’ll deal with it.”

Considering all of the ways Fenris could say it, express his desires and needs, merely saying, “I want you to fuck me,” was not the most eloquent way of doing so. Fenris flushed a bright red as soon as the words were out and he tried to hide his face away. 

“You- what-?” Anders reared back a little, eyes wide. “You want me to- Maker… Fenris, you- you know you don’t have to, right? It’s fine, I never minded not being on top! If you’re uncomfortable, I understand, I don’t want you to get upset!”

Fenris panicked and tried to backtrack, awkwardly laughing off his own request. “It's fine. You don't want to, don't worry about it. We’ll stay as we are now, it's okay. Why don't you try on your new skirt?” Fenris said, smiling tightly as he did his best to change the topic, to steer the conversation away to anything else. 

“No- Listen. Listen!” Anders leaned forward, planting his hands on the bed on either sides of Fenris’ hips, trapping him there. “I don’t mind! I wanted to do this _forever_ , but you weren’t comfortable with the idea because-” he took a deep breath. “Because Danarius used to do this to you. I was prepared to never top, but if you really, truly want me that way, I’d be- honored. I just don’t want to accidentally hurt you, is all.” He blinked. “You are really considering letting me enter you? You- trust me _that much_ …?”

“Anders, I trust you with my life,” Fenris said softly. “I've been considering it for a fortnight, I _want_ it. I didn't, before. I-- Part of me has always related it to shame and embarrassment and pain. Part of me sees it as servitude,” Fenris reluctantly admitted, eyes averted. He needed to explain, needed to try. “But Danarius is dead now. The rest of the Magisters he shared me with that way are dead too or a very long way away. I want to reclaim what is _mine_.”

“Aah. I see,” Anders nodded, settling back slowly. “You’re- healing.” He smiled. “I’d be glad to help, but there’s a chance it won’t work… But that’s also fine. Fenris, you must stop me if it gets too much, okay? This is no obligation. We’ll be just trying something new. Um- Anything I shouldn’t say, because it’d immediately ruin the experience…?” It was damn hard work to remember things like that in the heat of pleasure, but Anders was determined to try.

“Um. Maybe don't grab my hair,” Fenris said shyly. “And you should kiss me, lots. I don't want to be on my front, I want to see you so I can hold you. You probably shouldn't restrain me either… I know I'm asking a lot. It's not an obligation for you, either. You could use your magic though; yours makes my lyrium feel good.”

“That’s all quite fine! I think I’ll manage.” Anders smiled and pressed his lips against his lover’s. “We can start with the kissing right now. I’d still like to try the skirt and the jewelry, but at least we’ll ease into the mood slowly. You need to be relaxed. After all, it’s been a while you last had anyone, right? But it’s okay. I’ll use a lot of oil and I’ll be very gentle. I want to show you how it’s done properly.” He kissed Fenris again then moved to stand, pulling the elf with by the hand. 

“How about we undress each other? We don’t do that a lot and- I think it’ll help to settle your mind.”

“It's been… a very long time,” Fenris murmured, letting his hands run up Anders’ arms. “I’d like that. I do like getting you naked, after all.” Fenris grinned a little and leaned up to kiss Anders, firm but slow, his fingers going to the clasps of Anders’ clothes. “I love you, so much.”

“I know,” Anders whispered. “And that’s all I could ask for.” 

Getting naked indeed took some time because they kept kissing all the while, softly, lazily, enjoying the taste, scent and texture. Anders’ worn clothes and Fenris’ leathers piled up around their feet; for once, neither of them bothered with properly putting them aside. 

Anders had significantly more garments covering him, so while Fenris was still busy prying layers off the healer, Anders entertained himself with caressing the lyrium marks, with a small healing spell glowing at his fingertips. 

“Is this alright?” he questioned, barely touching the dark skin. “Does this feel good?” 

Fenris moaned slightly and nodded, arching a little into the touch. “Y-Yes, that's good. You have too many clothes,” Fenris mumbled after he's got himself - mostly - under control. “Should make you stay naked all the time.” The magic stroking through his lyrium was helping to arouse Fenris further, his cock now mostly hard even if he ignored it in favour of getting Anders naked. 

“Oh dear! I somehow forgot about that,” Anders declared in mock worry. “You’ll just have to put me back to my place, don’t you? Keep me naked all day, using me whenever you see fit… We had so many lovely ideas, I think it’d be time to put them into practice.” Anders licked his lips, his cock twitching subtly underneath his smalls. “It’s time to celebrate.”

He waited until the dark hands striped him of his last article of clothing, then stepped closer, pulling Fenris flush against his paler frame, simply to feel the full-body contact. “I can’t wait to see you spread out under me, becoming undone by pleasure,” Anders whispered. “We’re going to let the past burn. I’ll show you how it should be done.”

“Please do,” Fenris whispered against Anders’ lips, looking up at him happily before he kissed him again, wrapping his arms tightly around Anders, rubbing against him as best he could while standing up. “Let's lie down and kiss for a while? And touch?”

“So much about the plans,” Anders laughed, and he carefully brushed his gift to the ground, to free up the bed. “Certainly. That’s what I was planning. You might be prepared for this, but your body could object. I’ll have to make sure it won’t. Just try to relax. Don’t think about it.” The vial of oil took up permanent residence on the nightstand by now, so they didn’t have to look for it. 

Anders lay down and pulled Fenris on top of him. “This way, you won’t feel trapped and I still have access to your entire back. Perhaps- you’d like to ride me, for the first time? You’re more in control that way.”

“I'd like that. I do so enjoy seeing you beneath me,” Fenris purred with a grin. He settled himself in Anders’ lap, rubbing his rear against Anders’ cock. There was something exhilarating about being on top of his lover like this, Anders still pinned beneath him despite what was going to happen. Fenris leaned down to kiss Anders on the lips briefly, before moving to his chin and then down his throat. 

In turn, the long-fingered healer hands settled on Fenris’ shoulders then traveled down over his back. After a few minutes of idle wandering, they slipped lower though, to sprawl out over the elf’s rear, squeezing the firm flesh lightly. It was a brief detour; Anders returned to the smooth back then, but he kept slipping his hands down from time to time, giving a little attention to Fenris’ shapely backside. Despite his need for the extreme and wild, Anders found himself enjoying the simple kissing and touching just as much.

Fenris groaned into Anders’ mouth, pushing back for more with a quiet whine. “Anders…” Fenris sighed softly. “Please, I need-- I want you to…” He ducked his head to bite gently at Anders’ nipples, curling his tongue into the hoop to tug at it carefully. “I'm glad these are healed. Not enough for me to tug and twist just yet,” Fenris remarked, finding comfort in acting like he usually would during sex. 

“It s-still feels great,” Anders gasped. “Oh Maker. That’s so good…! I’m glad you talked me into these!” He arched up a little, encouraging the treatment, while he grabbed Fenris’ ass and squeezed firmly. “You have a gorgeous butt, you know,” Anders murmured. “So firm, and it fits into my hand perfectly.”

Fenris laughed, pushing his hips further back into Anders’ hands. He hummed slightly, sitting up and resting his hands on Anders’ chest in order to get the right angle to rock his hips in sensuous rolls that rubbed his cock against the stomach beneath him and pressed his ass against Anders’ erection and into his hands. Not only did it feel good, but Fenris was aware that it stretched his lean muscles very attractively. 

“You shameless tease!” Anders groaned. “Who gave you the right to be this pretty?” He smacked the lovely ass in retaliation, then began to knead the flesh slowly. Eventually, he slipped a finger between the dark cheeks to brush the hidden entrance there swiftly.

Fenris gasped in surprise and tensed briefly automatically before his let out a slow, shuddering breath. “Will you-- Please,” Fenris said simply, looking at Anders desperately, too embarrassed to say the words. “Please, I want…” 

“For the love of Andraste, slow down,” Anders chuckled. “We’ll get there. Hmm- Maybe you can turn around? I’ll have access to your rear, I can prepare you properly, and you could entertain yourself with- whatever so find there.” He grinned. “You give a mean head. Just don’t make me come.”

“Worried your _legendary_ Warden stamina won't let you get hard again after?” Fenris asked with a chuckle, shifting slightly in order to turn around, spreading his legs wide and setting his knees either side of Anders’ shoulders. Fenris leaned down to lick slowly along the length of Anders’ cock, mouthing along it from base to tip before he suckled at the head a little. He stretched out his spine to try and encourage Anders to start. 

Not that the healer needed much encouragement. He grabbed the oil and smeared several drops of it over the entrance, just rubbing the skin without trying to invade. Instead, he leaned closer to give a firm lick to Fenris’ perineum. Then, he continued adding more oil, gentle pressing in just a little bit, always a little further. Eventually, he slipped a finger in to the first knuckle.

“Are you alright?” Anders questioned quietly.

Fenris had to pull away to take deep breaths and nodded. “Y-Yeah, I'm good. Get going, I just need…” Fenris rested his forehead against Anders’ thigh, running his hands over the mage’s legs. “Will you-- Maker, I can't believe I'm asking this, but could you let Justice out, just on the surface? I need-- With him there I know it's you,” Fenris admitted almost embarrassedly. 

“I’ll… try,” Anders wasn’t taken aback by the request, but the doubt - could he do that? Until now, Justice was either in full control, or curled up deep inside, watching intently. Still, he was certainly willing to try, and he was sure the spirit had no objections. So he took a deep breath and let himself sink, to find the Fade entity residing in him. 

Then, he felt it. A strong current gently pushing him back instead of pulling him down - a wave of strange calm, relief; the same someone feels when seeing an agreeing, affirmative nod. Justice wrapped himself around Anders’ consciousness and held on, simply for Fenris’ sake. 

When Anders surfaced with a gasp, his veins glowed underneath his skin, and he could feel Justice’s powerful presence; but the spirit merely lingered, not trying to take control. “Is this- alright?” Anders questioned breathlessly, and he shuddered at his own voice, laced with rumbling echoes. 

Lyrium lines flashed in response and Fenris groaned, arching sharply and pushing his hips back, gasping for breath against Anders’ thigh. “Kaffas, _yes_ ,” Fenris moaned, fingers curling and digging into the skin. “Oh fuck-- Keep going, please, please, oh _Maker_ , I can feel you in my skin.”

Anders nearly choked on his own feelings - the satisfaction he felt was so deep like never before, likely because him and Justice both felt it, and it echoed back on itself. It wasn’t unpleasant though. Fenris looked exquisite, writhing on top and Anders didn’t hesitate to add more oil and an entire finger rubbing, questing for the good spot.

“Tell us if it hurts,” mage and spirit commanded in unison.

Fenris nodded, gasping slightly and moaning more when Anders got his prostate. “Fuck, there, please, I--” Fenris ducked his head again to try and focus on sucking Anders’ cock but it was near impossible with the way the feeling of Justice’s presence flickered along his lyrium. “More, please…”

“Leave the mage staff alone,’ Anders laughed. “It isn’t going anywhere.” More oil followed and two fingers, easing into the tight heat carefully. “I just can’t wait to fuck you indeed… Or more precisely, I can’t wait to see you fuck yourself on my cock, bouncing on it as happy as a kitten.”

Fenris whined pathetically, practically mewling, pulling off Anders’ cock. “Hurry _up_ ,” Fenris moaned. His pleasure was coming from his lyrium as much as Anders’ fingers in him now. He'd never even imagined it could feel this good. “Please.”

“Well… If it hurts, I’ll probably know about it,” Anders mused and began to carefully finger-fuck Fenris, pulling out and pushing in, crossing his fingers and adding more oil. After a minute, he eased in a third digit. The noises Fenris was making kept Anders aroused; he never heard the elf keen like that, and his mouth was salivating at the thought of finally seeing his lover’s face.

Having Fade-touched fingers so deep inside of him set Fenris’ lyrium off like wildfire, flashing brightly and flickering the whole time. “Anders… That's so-- Fuck, Justice,” Fenris found himself moaning, arching and gasping. 

“Are you even going to last like this?” Anders questioned. “We should probably tone it down. If you turn, you won’t be able to think about someone else… hopefully.” He laughed a little, and it was interesting to hear Justice’s voice mingling with his, as the spirit never laughed. The sound wasn’t unpleasant. 

“Turn, Fenris. You’re ready. Claim what’s yours.”

Fenris moved quickly to turn around, practically crushing Anders’ lips beneath his with the force of the kiss he planted on him. It took a moment before Fenris shuffled and knelt up to position Anders at his entrance, pushing down onto the mage’s cock with a broken noise. There was pain, as expected after so long, but it was not agony and it wasn't _bad_. 

Justice eased back, leaving Anders alone. The stimulation his presence provided worked well until this, but it was time to stop for several reasons. Anders ran his hands up on Fenris’ thighs, squeezing the hard muscles beneath dark skin. 

“Oh yes,” he moaned breathlessly; the sensation of being sheathed in a hot body felt almost new after so long. “You feel amazing… Don’t hurry, please.” He grabbed Fenris’ hips. “I want to savor this… H-how does it feel, love?”

“I-It's good. So good…” Fenris moaned as he rolled his hips slightly, wiggling his way down Anders’ cock until he was fully seated. “My lyrium feels like it's burning in the best way, I love it. Oh… I love you. I love you so much…”

“Looks like I still haven’t lost my touch,” Anders nodded, pleased with himself. “You’re already bordering on incoherent… Maybe I’ll have the chance to see you being a babbling mess.” His hands moved to Fenris’ stomach, splaying out over the steely muscles then traveled upwards to the elf’s chest. 

“Alright love, start moving. Ride your Warden, Fenris.”

Fenris laughed around his moan, rolling his hips slightly. He took a shuddering breath as he lifted himself, beginning to move slowly. Fenris had never been in this position before, and the control, the ability to direct Anders’ thrusts directly against his prostate was wonderful. 

“You-- make the stupidest jokes,” Fenris managed to say, grinning as he groaned slightly. “Come on, please…”

With a chuckle, Anders began to roll his hips. “One of the best sex I had was with a girl at a Denerim brothel… We kept cracking jokes and laughed all the while - I mean, until we were able, before the pleasure stole our breath.” He curled his hands around Fenris’ waist. “I’m fairly long, so you can suit yourself. It’s all about you, do what you enjoy.”

“What I enjoy is _you_ ,” Fenris practically growled, pushing against Anders. “I asked for you to fuck me…” He leaned down to bite at Anders’ lower lip. “So fuck me.” Speeding up with his movements again, Fenris found the best angle that had Anders hitting his prostate with every drop, making Fenris cry out and moan. 

It wasn’t easy to move with the elf coming down on him again and again, but Anders managed somehow. Seeing Fenris like this was worth every bit of trouble. The elf looked frail, vulnerable, but he was obviously enjoying himself so much, Anders’ heart skipped a beat. The dark body welcomed him, it gripped him just the right way and their position let Anders marvel at the almost painful expression of Fenris’ face, the wild abandon of his movements as he bounced on top. 

“I ask you a lot of things and half the time, you don’t listen,” Anders gasped. “So why should I?”

Fenris grinned breathlessly. “Because I’ll spank you if you do, I know how you love it. Because you love me. Because I'm yours, because you feel so good…” Fenris groaned, leaning down to kiss Anders again. He whispered against his lips, “Fuck me…”

“Maker…!” Anders groaned as pleasure twisted in his gut with a flash of exquisite pain. “Fine!” He grabbed Fenris and threw themselves on the side in a clumsy attempt to turn; it didn’t really work. Regretfully, Anders pulled himself free and kneeled up, tipping his chin up. “On your back. This is what you wanted anyway; now I’ll fuck you nice and good.” He leaned closer. “I’ll be inside you so deep, you’ll feel me between your _lungs_.”

Fenris did as he was told with a laugh, lying on his back and spreading his legs for Anders, wrapping his arms around the mage when he came close enough. Fenris buried his face in Anders’ neck and began to kiss and suck at the skin there, wrapping his legs around Anders’ hips and pulling him closer. “If you make me come before you, I’ll ride you into the sunset, do whatever you want. Because it means you're good to me.”

“You’re not making it a challenge,” Anders grinned, wiggling an eyebrow and giving a few firm strokes to Fenris’ erection. He added a little more oil, just in case, then slid back into the gorgeous dark body with one firm thrust, as deep as he could go, then bent down to find an even better angle. He didn’t stop while he was searching though, but kept moving, sliding in and pulling out. “So, how do you like that?”

Fenris hummed a soft moan, arching beneath Anders and slipping his hands into the mage’s hair. “It's good… Very good… I love you. I want to stay by your side forever…” Fenris kissed Anders’ neck. “And ever.” He brought his lips up to the other’s mouth, kissing him briefly. “For as long as we live.” The kiss Fenris left on Anders was deep and searching, loving and open. 

“Oh love…” Anders curled his arms around Fenris, to draw him into a tight embrace, “I wish we could do that.” 

He told the truth; wishes were free. And if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride. 

Anders focused on their bodies merging into one, the hard flesh straining against his stomach and the tight heat around him, slick and inviting. He had to make Fenris come first, simply because it was a challenge. 

It wouldn't take long, not with how sensitive Fenris was with how long it had been for him like this. Fenris let himself sink into the sensations, gasping and sighing, moaning and arching against Anders. Gripping Anders’ hair and shoulder, Fenris focused on kissing Anders, or his neck when he became too breathless. 

“I'm close,” Fenris murmured after a few minutes, body rolling sensually underneath Anders. “Maker, I love this, I love you. My Anders, my mage… Keep going please, and then roll us over and I’ll ride you until you come, fuck myself on you even though we’re already covered in my seed…”

“I love when you talk dirty,” Anders declared with a loving smile and braced himself so he’d be able to pound into Fenris forcefully. As much as he enjoyed being used and abused, being on top held an appeal for him, too. Especially being a top for Fenris, watching him falling apart. 

“Come for me, love. Look at me and come.”

Fenris cried out in pleasure, tightening his grip on Anders. He was so close already. Any other time and he'd have been embarrassed, but it felt too good to care. One last thrust and Fenris was coming with a shout, nails digging into Anders’ skin. 

“Give… Give me a moment,” Fenris eventually managed to say. 

“As long as you need,” Anders soothed. He dropped tiny kisses over Fenris’ face and neck, inhaling the scent of fresh sweat. “Your eyes are beautiful when you come. I could drown in them. So green like fresh leaves. Pounce had eyes like that.”

“Top tip: don't liken me to your cat in the middle of sex,” Fenris grinned breathlessly. He used his strength to roll them over so he was back on top, Anders beneath him, still buried in him. Fenris took a moment to appreciate the feeling, even with how oversensitive he was. After a few moments, he began to lift himself up and down on Anders, biting his lip slightly as he sped up. 

Anders’ chuckle quickly turned into moans and breathless gasps. He didn’t need much to get closer to the edge; Fenris’ body was squeezing him with just the right force.

“I could watch you like this for hours,” Anders confessed. “How your back arches. How your muscles strain. Your lyrium, your face, your voice… Maker, I don’t deserve you. Just a little longer… Fenris, my love…!”

Fenris hummed softly, arousal flowing through his veins even if his cock wasn't hard. “You like that? You like watching me on top of you? I like seeing you underneath me like this, on top but yet so vulnerable. I rather like this position,” Fenris chuckled, grinning down at Anders. 

“You’re such a control freak…” Anders grinned back, but couldn’t continue; the rapidly escalating pleasure stole his voice. His back arched and his hands gripped Fenris’ waist with enough force to bruise. One roll of the dark hips, two - Anders pinned his lover down as he came with a broken cry. His thighs quivered with his orgasm, his hips jerked upwards a few times, then he sank back into the bed, eyes drifting shut.

Fenris lowered himself to lie on top of Anders with a breathless smile, fingers curling into the mage’s hair to toy with it happily. “Thank you…” Fenris breathed. “Thank you for this. Have I tired you out? Sleep, love. You can try on all your clothes later.”

“I’m actually fine,” Anders cracked an eye open. “It takes a lot more to tire me out. But you know what?” He wrapped his arms around Fenris and smooched him. “This once, I’ll do just that.”


	16. A Candle's Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This mmmight be a little upsetting for several reasons. Thread carefully.

The air was just pleasant, neither too warm, nor too chilly. Anders didn’t mind his nudity or the lack of covers. The thick mattress protected him from the cold floor, and despite the ropes, he was comfortable

Life was peaceful in here. No worries, no cares, there was nothing to concern himself with. Master would see to everything. He even left a candle out, so Anders won’t be in darkness.

When he laid on his left, some of the light seeped through the blindfold. That was okay; he didn’t need to see. Upon Master’s request, he was rendered deaf but that was okay, too; he was just a toy essentially, and toys didn't need to see or hear. Anders still knew where the light was and that was enough.

He also knew a few other things. Like that Master was strong and beautiful, and that he owned Anders and could treat him as he saw fit. Master also had friends and Anders was to serve them if it came to that, but it was also fine. Anders knew his place.

He wiggled a little to lie more comfortably. He couldn’t move much with both his wrists and ankles bound securely with another rope curling around his shoulders, but he didn’t want to, didn’t need to. He was Master’s and if Master wanted him to move, he’d arrange Anders into another position to his liking.

He had no idea when he was placed here; time lost its meaning when he didn’t have anything to do but wait for a chance to fulfill his purpose. Anders’ mind was blissfully blank. Sometimes he thought of Master and how he’d service him and he’d grow a little hard, but it went away on its own. Master already came and fed him once, pushing bite-sized pieces of delicious food into Anders’ mouth carefully so he wouldn’t accidentally choke. Master was so considerate. He also let Anders drink a few sips of water. When he had enough, Andes turned his head away and Master gently eased him on the mattress, caressed his head and left.

Life was good like this, so simple and secure.

A hand, Master’s hand, touched his hip, rolling Anders a little more onto his front as the warm body settled against him. Fingers slipped between the cheeks of his rear, stroking over his hole. Master pushed two fingers into him, and then a third after a few moments, moving them slowly. They disappeared, replaced with something much thicker that sank into him. 

Like always, Anders flinched from the surprise - he had no way of telling when Master entered the room. But he relaxed quickly and took a deep breath, letting his body take it. Master kept him well-oiled all the time, so little preparation was needed and that Master still always took the time to check if he was ready made Anders smile. 

He couldn’t hear himself either but he moaned, so show how good it felt to be filled. 

A touch brushed his ear, and sound rushed into his mind. Master’s teeth scraped lightly over the shell of his ear as he began to move slowly, thrusting in a steady rhythm. 

“You're my good boy, Anders,” Master whispered against his ear. “Such a good boy… My little pet.”

Lyrium flickered slightly, crackling over his skin. A hand wrapped around Anders’ cock, stroking slowly in time with the thrusts inside him. 

Anders whimpered a little, wiggling a bit to get the most of both sensations. “I’m yours, Master, forever,” he whispered; the heartfelt confession was topped with a louder moan as Master brushed against the good spot inside. “I’m so happy to serve you.”

There was a soft chuckle and a hand firmly gripping his hip to hold him still. “Lie still, pet. You're my little plaything, and playthings don't move, do they? Just lie still and let me use you.” The hand on Anders’ hip tightened to hold him still as Master began to move a little faster inside him, quickening breath against his ear. 

Anders willed himself to relax, not moving a muscle, which was harder by the minute; but also strangely exciting. To truly give up control, depending on someone else entirely was a wonderful feeling. So peaceful. And Master was making him feel so nice, too. Anders whimpered from pleasure, his cock twitching in Master’s grip, ready to burst. “I’m- I’m going to come soon,” Anders panted, a new wave of excitement rising in him: will he be allowed to have his release?

“Don't,” Master said firmly against his ear, biting firmly on his neck. “If you can hold off all day, I'll spoil you tonight. Maybe blow you, maybe eat you out, maybe ride you… But if you come now, you’ll never know, will you? Don't. Come.” 

The rocking against Anders’ hips didn't slow or stutter while Master spoke, just continued in its steady rhythm, one thrust occasionally harder than the previous ones, a reminder of what Master could do if he really put his mind to it. 

Anders’ eyes widened under the blindfold. Holding off all day? That was going to be torture… but if Master willed it, how could he oppose?

“Yes, Master…” Anders breathed, trying to somehow not focus on the thrusts and the strong fingers working his cock. “I’ll be good, I promise…”

As he uttered the words, he felt it. A cool wave washing over his insides, soothing, quieting his blood and Anders gasped as the pleasure began to fade after a brief spike. It was like submerging underwater, everything dimmed and dulled out except the sense of relief that he’ll be indeed a good boy, doing exactly what Master said. He could still feel the thrusts, but they were a soothing rocking motion, nothing more. Anders could feel himself going soft in Master’s hand. 

Even beneath the blindfold, the flash of blue light had been visible, the tingle of Master’s lyrium palpable in the air. 

“Is Justice helping you, pet?” Master chuckled softly against his ear, hand moving from Anders’ cock to his hip. “That's very kind of him, isn't it? Are you going to say ‘thank you’? It'd be very rude not to, pet.”

The hand on Anders’ hip tightened as Master’s other hand tangled in his hair, pulling back to bare the mage’s neck, giving Master plenty of space to suck and bite over his skin. 

“Th-thank you, Justice,” Anders gasped obediently. “You’re so good to me… Helping me to please Master.” He cried out softly at the bites, the small pain turning into pleasure quickly. “You’re too kind to me, both of you… I don’t deserve all this. I’m unworthy of this joy…”

“Good boy. Hush now, let me use you,” Master cooed, the hand in Anders’ hair slipping slightly to stroke his neck instead as the previously slow and steady thrusts became faster, harder, rougher. Master’s grip tightened on Anders’ hip to keep him still enough for his master to properly make use of him. 

Anders simply smiled and let himself sink into that warm cocoon of safety again. Master’s warmth, his steady thrusts grounded him, the slight pull of the ropes encircling his frame reminded him where he belonged, and the steady, calm pulses of the spirit inside were like a pair of strong arms lulling him into a daze.

He was nothing and everything, a precious toy, cherished and loved, His sole purpose was making Master happy, and it made Anders feel so proud that he could fulfill his purpose without fail. He relished in the sensation of his soft penis brushing against his thigh, swaying with the thrusts. He was being such a good boy. Not a drop wasted.

It wasn't long before Master was trembling against Anders, muscles twitching as the hands on his flesh tightened to keep in him place as Master slammed into him. Warmth flooded Anders’ body as Master groaned against his neck, nails scratching slightly at Anders’ pale skin. 

It took a few moments for the panting against Anders’ ear to slow. “Good boy,” Master all but cooed. “My good boy, my sweet little baby boy… You did so well. You lie here now like a good toy until Master need you again.” 

There was slight movement before a cup was being pressed against Anders’ lips, Master’s hands moving him to help him drink. 

Anders sipped the water thankfully; his body needed it after all the exertion. He finished another cup, then his tongue darted out to find Master’s fingers and playfully lick at them. “When are you coming back?” Anders questioned eagerly. “Please come back soon.”

“I'll come back when I need you, pet,” Master chuckled softly. “Just lie still and be quiet for me like the good little boy you are…” With that, Master’s weight lifted from the bed and after a little sound, fingers brushed Anders’ earring, lingering on the shell of his ear for a moment before Anders was left alone on the bed again. 

He sighed softly and relaxed, trying to fight off the subtle ache in his chest. It would’ve been so nice to never part from Master, serving him constantly, but of course that was silly; Master had other things to do. Anders was content waiting. 

“You’re beautiful like this,” the spirit murmured. 

Anders smiled. “Am I?” he asked back without words. 

“So serene. An ocean of calm, love and pride,” Justice cooed, rippling over Anders’ skin. “I feel refreshed. We’ll have enough strength to continue the fight.”

“Not today,” Anders sighed dreamily. “Today, I belong to my Master.”

“He’s a good keeper,” Justice chuckled. “I’m glad to help you.”

“Mmyes, thank you. I wouldn’t be able to hold on otherwise,” Anders agreed. “But like this, I’ll have so much for him!”

“Still,” Justice mused, “You deserve something nice for your devotion.” Pleasure welled up in Anders, spreading out through his entire body in waves.

“Now, don’t be alarmed,” Justice soothed, sensing Anders’ fear. “I won’t let you come or even harden. But I can still keep you in this state for a long time. I can even push you through the threshold and still not waste anything.”

“That’s… that’s amazing,” Anders moaned a little even though he couldn’t hear it. “But please… no. Well- maybe the next time Master comes.”

“As you wish.” The spirit’s presence and the pleasure both faded and Anders let himself slip into a light sleep. What better thing to do while waiting than having a little nap?

*** 

Fenris watched Anders with hungry eyes from where he sat at the desk. He _had_ been attempting to try to read but now his chair was turned fully to face Anders. The mage was beautiful anyway, with his blond hair and soft pale skin, but like this, he was simply exquisite. 

Curiosity piqued as Anders moaned; Fenris wasn't even touching him, and Anders didn't moan like that when he pleasured himself. Justice, then? The thought was oddly… arousing, but Fenris wanted to pace himself throughout the day. He tried to focus on the book in front of him again, sounding out the words when necessary, content in the knowledge that Anders couldn't hear, but his heart wasn't in it. Instead he merely sat and stared at the book, eyes drifting up to Anders regularly as he considered what he would do to the mage next. It could have been days, could have been minutes before Fenris was standing and returning to the bed. He touched the earring softly, making sure not to disturb Anders before he leaned down to brush his lips over Anders’ ear as he purred, “Anders… Wake up, pet, I want to use you.”

The mage stirred with a soft gasp, his entire body tensing up subtly. “I’m awake!” He claimed, a smile spreading out on his lips. “I’m ready, Master.” He leaned up a little, to nuzzle Fenris affectionately.

Fenris hummed softly and rolled Anders onto his back. “I'm going to use your mouth now, pet. I heard you moaning earlier; was Justice playing with my pet? Does he want to join in?” Fenris chuckled, stroking his finger along Anders’ jaw. “Did you say thank you to Justice for giving you pleasure, pet?”

Anders flushed prettily. “I did, Master,” he nodded. “He was playing a little… Letting me feel pleasure without getting me hard but I asked him not to do it when you’re not touching me.” He wiggled a bit; His bound wrists rested against the small of his back and now his own weight pressed them into the mattress. “He says he’d rather just lurk inside me… And asks if it’s okay to make me feel good while you’re not around.”

“Hm, I like the idea of you teetering on the edge of pleasure even if you aren't about to come. That is allowed,” Fenris said, fingers moving from Anders’ jaw to his lips, pushing between them and rubbing at his tongue slightly before hooking over his teeth and pulling his mouth open. “Shall I have you like this, or shall I rearrange you so I can fuck your throat and watch how my cock makes it bulge?” Fenris pressed a hand against Anders’ throat and squeezed ever so slightly. 

Anders’ breath hitched and his penis stirred. “H-however you want to, Master,” he breathed. “But… please do what is the best for you… Don’t mind me. I’ll be happy to serve you in any way.”

“I like the thought of choking you on my cock, watching how your throat gives way for me. Yes… I'll do that, I think.” Fenris maneuvered Anders towards the edge of the bed so his head was practically hanging off it, at the perfect angle for Fenris to crouch down and fuck his mouth so wonderfully, so he did, squeezing Anders’ throat once more before he pushed his cock into that tight, wet heat. 

Anders moaned helplessly; until he could, that is. He nearly choked on the flesh shoved into his mouth so he quickly willed himself to relax. He could take it well but it’s been a while he was used like this, so fully. It was wonderful. His eyes started to water and it was becoming harder to breathe but feeling Master sliding down his throat, heavy and warm on Anders’ tongue made it worth. 

Perfectly at Master’s mercy, arms and legs bound, Anders couldn’t do anything but accept it. He was growing hard, but a reassuring pulse from the spirit made it clear that it’ll be dealt with. 

Fenris moaned at the feeling, the sight of Anders’ throat bulging, forced by his cock. After a few moments he pulled back to allow Anders to breathe before he pushed in again, thrusting into his throat, slow and steady. Fenris pulled back every few moments to allow Anders air. The slow near-teasing was perfect, and it also made sure Anders was well. Fenris _loved_ it and kept going, reaching down with one hand to grasp Anders’ cock, squeezing it tightly before stroking him, too lightly for real satisfaction. 

The sweet torture was driving Anders mad. The blindfold slowly soaked through with tears, every time he was allowed to breathe, he took air in large gulps and he kept moaning and groaning to somehow convey his feelings. The spirit inside soothed him, sent tiny flicks of healing energy to his throat to ease the soreness. It also let Anders harden fully, until his cock laid on his stomach hot and heavy from all the blood gathered in it but at a point, pleasure stopped to escalate and became a constant buzz, lapping at Anders’ mind, slowly eating away any conscious thought. 

Fenris swore in Tevene as he squeezed Anders’ cock again before straightening up to watch Anders’ throat as he fucked it. “Do you like that, pet? Does it feel good, being stretched around me like this? Maker, just watching you… Fuck. I want Justice to pleasure you. I want to see you coming undone beneath me. Ask Justice to do that for you, pet,” Fenris ordered as he pulled back to allow Anders to do so. 

Anders coughed and swallowed hard once he was released, trying hard to talk but it took him a little while to obey.

“J-Justice please… pleasure me… so Master could see it,” he choked, voice rough from the abuse his throat just endured. “Master, please… I love it when you fuck my throat, please come in my mouth, please.” He opened his mouth wide but winced and moaned as his cock gave a violent twitch. Pleasure flooded him, strong but still not enough and it made Anders reel. He was rapidly reduced to a creature of instinct, wanting nothing more than be filled.

Fenris leaned back to watch Anders writhe under Justice’s touch. Putting it in such plain terms should have been abhorrent but it wasn't. In fact, it was… arousing. Fenris was briefly reminded of when he'd kissed Justice, after Danarius’ demise, and slightly perturbed by the thrum of pleasure that accompanied the memory. Pushing it aside, Fenris returned to fucking Anders’ throat, still pulling back occasionally to let him breathe, until he felt his orgasm creeping down his spine. He was so close, it wouldn't be long, especially if Anders kept making those noises. 

And he did, without fail. It seemed like he was no longer possessing the ability of coherent speech - every sound he made was that of pleasure and frustration that it never came to head. He was straining against the ropes, trashing as much as he was allowed. Curiously, amidst all the writhing, he had gone soft, his penis shrinking and settling back but Anders was still whining. Whatever the spirit was doing to him, it was highly effective. 

Swearing again, Fenris pulled back just enough for the tip of his cock to rub over Anders’ tongue, and that was where he came only a moment later, groaning as his seed drenched Anders’ tongue. Fenris was breathing heavily, hand running up and down Anders’ chest, pinching a nipple occasionally. “Swallow it, pet. Swallow Master’s present. Be a good boy…”

Ever the obedient little thing, Anders not only swallowed but _sucked_. He closed his mouth around Fenris’ cock and attempted to milk him until the last drop was spent. He still kept groaning, desperate for release but never getting it. He was such an obedient pet still.

Fenris moaned loudly in surprise, hips jerking with how good it felt on his over-sensitive flesh. “A-Anders,” Fenris managed to say before he got himself under control and pulled back, leaning down to kiss Anders. It was messy with how he was upside down but Fenris couldn’t care less. “Good boy… My sweet baby boy, aren't you? Say thank you to Justice again, pet, and to me for allowing you to taste my seed.”

Anders didn’t say anything for a while, just panted heavily, cheeks red from exertion and the blood rush. He licked his lips sensuously, like a big, lazy cat and purred. It only lasted until a flash of blue lit his skin up; Anders stirred with a little gasp then craned his head, seeking out Fenris’ heat. 

“Thank you for the wonderful gift, Master,” he whispered, almost shyly. “It tasted better than anything.. You’re so kind to me. And thank you, Justice, for letting me feel so much pleasure… Mmh!” He wiggled a bit. “He’s still pleasuring me, Master… It feels so good, ooh! I’m going to lose my mind again if he keeps up.”

Fenris grinned slightly, stroking his hands through Anders’ hair and gripping him tightly. “Maybe I should let him, let him tease you to the edge and then make him stop, let you lie there until you're relaxed again. Mm… I like that thought,” Fenris purred. “What do you think, pet? I'm going to ask your opinion just this once…”

“Whatever you want-” Anders began, out of habit, then swallowed. “I-I think I’d like that, too. Justice is as kind as he can be, without a tangible body… Please Master, come back at some point and watch me. It’s… it gets me hard when you watch me.” He flushed even deeper, and his voice dropped to almost inaudible.

“I'm _always_ watching you, pet,” Fenris purred, biting hard at Anders’ ear before he touched the earring to silence the world around Anders. He returned to his chair to watch, not even bothering to pick up the book he'd been trying to read. 

***

The next hours - or maybe days, Anders couldn’t care to measure the time - were spent in a daze. Justice put his ability to control Anders’ body to a good use; he’d tease Anders to the point of near orgasm, then toned it back down. Anders could very well picture himself growing hard then softening again, and the thought that Master might be watching made him put on a subtle show. He didn’t restrain his voice, knowing that Master liked to hear it, so he whimpered and moaned through the process, while Justice sometimes whispered something sweet to him. 

Eventually though, Anders became aware of his body’s needs, like the hunger that crept up on him. When was it that he last ate? He wasn’t sure.

At the sound of Anders’ stomach rumbling, Fenris swore at himself, standing and walking quickly to the kitchen to prepare some that he could feed to Anders by hand. A sandwich would do, and some slices of apple, and a few of Anders’ favourite biscuits as a treat. He got another cup of water and headed back upstairs. 

Fenris set it down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed, lightly pressing his hand to Anders’ belly, smoothing along his skin until he reached the earring and tapped it softly. 

“Come on, pet, it's time for food. Are you hungry?” Fenris asked, leaning down to kiss his cheek. 

“Yes, Master,” Anders admitted. “Are you going to feed me?” His voice took on a playful tone; it was fun to be fed with such care, sitting up for a change. The ropes didn’t allow much movement, but if Anders was careful, he could balance just fine. Also, Master always brought nice food.

“Yes, pet, I'm going to feed you,” Fenris said with just as much amusement. “First I'm going to sit you up. You can lean back against the headboard so you don't fall over and choke on the food I made with my own hands. Aren't I good to you, pet? Making things for you myself. I spoil you.”

“Yes, you do, Master,” Anders purred. “You’re so good to me and I wish I could serve you even better. If you think I could, please tell me! I want to repay all your kindness.” He patiently waited to be moved.

Fenris carefully moved Anders, leaving soft kisses on his skin wherever he could reach as he did so. When he had Anders in position, he lifted the cup and held it to the mage’s lips. “Have a sip first, pet. You're perfect for me, more than I could have ever wanted. Perfection, completely and utterly.”

Anders flushed and he obediently drank; he was thirsty anyway. “Thank you, Master,” he said shyly once the cup was taken away. “I really try my best. I’m so glad I can be yours and that I can please you.” He blushed deeper as he felt the pleasant stirrings between his legs, his penis gathering blood just because of the confessions. It wasn’t very obvious, and Andres bristled inwardly at Justice’s amusement. 

“Just as I'm yours, amatus,” Fenris whispered, needing to say it before they moved on. He picked up a small piece of the sandwich and held it out to Anders, touching it to his lips slightly so he knew it was there. “Be a good boy and eat your dinner, pet.”

Anders smiled and opened his mouth, licking at Fenris’ fingers as the elf pushed the bread into his mouth. He tasted meat and cheese too - a wholesome meal, for all his troubles. Anders chewed well and once he swallowed, he opened his mouth wide for the next treat. 

Fenris murmured soft praises the whole time as he fed Anders the pieces of sandwich, and then the slices of apple. “I got you a special treat as well, pet. I got you some of those biscuits you like. Would you like them?”

“Yes please!” Anders gasped with delight. Those biscuits were one of the few luxuries he allowed himself to have, made with cinnamon and honey. Master apparently found delight in spoiling his pet with them often. Anders opened his mouth again and waited, eager to taste the familiar sweetness, the perfect dessert after the meal.

Fenris broke the biscuit in half and held it to Anders so it would be just enough for a bite. He couldn't help his wide smile at just how happy Anders was, because it made Fenris happy too, ridiculously so. “Is that nice, my good boy? So sweet, aren't you? My little boy…”

Anders happily munched on the treat, basking in the affection. His legs were starting to protest but it was so well worth it. 

“I’m so glad to be your precious, Master. You spoil me so much. Were you pleased with me today? Have you watched how Justice played with me?”

“I have,” Fenris said. “I was so busy watching you that I almost forgot to feed you. Can you imagine that? Nearly forgot to look after my darling pet. You've been so good, done so well today. Can you last just a little longer? Do you need anything?”

“Well…” Anders shifted in slight embarrassment, cheeks tinged with pink. “I, um.” He bit his lower lip. “I- I need to relieve myself, Master.”

Fenris chuckled and kissed Anders’ cheek, licking a few crumbs from the mage’s lips. “Eat the second half of your biscuit while I get the chamber pot,” Fenris said, picking up the other bit of biscuit and putting it in Anders’ mouth before climbing off the bed and retrieving the chamber pot, setting it on the bed. “I'm going to get you to kneel, pet, and I'll hold your pretty cock for you while you piss.”

Anders was flushed to a fetching shade of crimson by now. “Yes, Master.” He meekly nodded and waited until he was maneuvered into position. 

This was something new. It’s not that he had never taken a leak in company, far from it, but it was Master watching him now, and there was a delicious mixture of shame and excitement that he wasn’t even able to see to such a basic need unaided. Despite himself, Anders became a little nervous, and just couldn’t relax enough to get the job done.

Fenris moved them into a position that allowed Anders to kneel and lean back against Fenris so he didn't strain his knees. With the chamber pot in front of them, Fenris took hold of Anders’ cock and directed it towards the pot. “Come on, pet, be a good boy for me. Don't you want to be good, pet?” Fenris cooed and purred, kissing at Anders’ neck and shoulders. 

“I- I want to… I want to be good for you, Master,” Anders breathed. The kisses felt so nice, he tipped his head back and turned his head to nuzzle Fenris. Now he was able to relax and properly relieve himself. It was interesting to not see, only hear it; for a moment he was worried that something might go wrong and he’ll end up dirtying the sheets, but Fenris was holding him securely. Absolutely nothing could go wrong when he handled things. 

Fenris kept whispering soft praise and pressing kisses to Anders’ shoulders. “That's it, pet, just like that… Oh, you're so good for me, aren't you? So perfect and beautiful, and all mine. Mine and Justice’s. That's it, let it all out, just like that…” Fenris waited until Anders was done, not once stopping the gentle words and touches. 

When he was sure Anders was finished, Fenris reached for the soft tissue that he’d found in the storage cupboard, grateful that there was some around as Danarius had always kept a stock of it, and Fenris had been permitted to clean himself properly after using the chamber pot unlike most slaves. He wiped Anders’ clean and dry gently, dropping the tissue into the pot and setting it on the nightstand to dispose of. 

“My good, beautiful boy, you're so well behaved. Is that better?” Fenris asked, wrapping his arms around Anders, still kneeling behind him. 

“Yes, Master,” Anders nodded. As a Ferelden, the tissue was something he only heard about but never saw himself and it actually took him some thinking to figure out what exactly Fenris did to him. 

“Thank you for attending me. You make me feel so safe.” He tried to lean more into the contact, soaking up the heat. “Thank you for the meal, too. Are you going to use me now?”

“You'd like that, wouldn't you, pet?” Fenris purred with a wide grin. He nipped Anders neck and sucked a bruise into it. “Yes, I'm going to use you now. Hm, like this I think, so we don't even have to move…” Fenris reached for the oil on the nightstand and coated his fingers and cock, pushing two fingers into Anders straight away, and then a third after a moment to make sure that he was still stretched enough for the cock that Fenris pressed into him, hissing slightly. 

Anders cried out in surprise, but not because he was in pain; it was just unexpected. When did Fenris get so hard? Nevertheless, he felt good, as always. 

Anders tried his best to keep straight, but with his lower legs bound as well as his arms behind his back, his balance was precarious. He was entirely at Fenris’ mercy.

“Ooh, you feel wonderful, Master,” Anders moaned. “I’m so glad… Thank you. Is this my reward for being good all day? Should Justice… do anything?”

“Justice can do whatever he wants with you, pet,” Fenris said, nipping Anders’ ear. “And this time you can come because you’ve been so good all day, so perfect for me like the good boy you are. You can come whenever you’re ready, but I’m not going to stop until I come too, do you understand? Good boy...” 

Fenris wrapped his arms around Anders’ chest to keep them pressed together so Anders didn’t fall over or lose his balance, and it also gave Fenris all of the leverage he wanted so he could draw back and fuck into Anders as hard as he wanted. 

“We shouldn’t waste the opportunity,” Anders heard Justice’s voice inside; the spirit sounded almost smug. Anders could feel spirit energy sizzling through his body; it made him gasp. His nerves were set alight and suddenly, he could feel everything, every little touch and sensation; he was oversensitized and he cried out at the next thrust, pleasure flaring up like a crack of a whip. 

“Oh Justice… Master, Oh! Maker have mercy…!” Anders whined, sensing a fast approaching orgasm. He didn’t want to end it too soon, but he was unable to protest - the wave loomed over him then crashed down, making him yell and quake with its intensity. 

However, as he got his bearings back, he realized that the playful spirit didn’t let him come. 

Fenris moaned slightly at the reactions Justice was clearly wringing out of Anders, scratching over the mage’s nipples to add to the sensations. 

“Venhedis, do you have any idea how gorgeous you are, pet? How pretty those moans of yours are? Are you close, baby boy? I think you are with how you're shaking,” Fenris purred, hips jerking slightly. Seeing Anders writhing in pleasure and having him squeezing and clenching around his cock wasn't something that Fenris could ignore or hold up against, the pleasure sparking down his spine as he got closer and closer to orgasm. The bright touch of Justice’s essence called to his lyrium and only brought further pleasure to Fenris, getting harder and harder. “Are you going to come soon, pet?”

“J-Justice just made me come, Master,” Anders confessed, trembling in the firm hold. “I think he wants to make me- Aah, Maker please n- aah... aah!” He all but convulsed on top of Fenris. “Oh Maker, I can’t- I can’t take it anymore, I want to come for real, please…!” It was a delight to hear him sob. “Please Master… Please come inside me, I th-think Justice will do this until you fill me and I- Oh please don’t, Justice, please…!”

“But you love it,” the spirit purred. “You love every second of it. You’re beautiful like this, my mortal. You sing almost as sweetly as lyrium.” He heeded the plea though, not pushing Anders over the edge but keeping him there. The healer wasn’t sure if that was a better option, with the constant tension tearing him apart.

“Please Master, hurry,” he groaned hoarsely. “Please fill me up…!”

Any resolve that Fenris had left snapped under those pleas. He growled loudly and bit down hard on Anders’ shoulder as his hips sped up, the pleasure building and building until Fenris was coming with a shout, slamming into Anders one last time with potentially bruising force. Between the sparking tingling of his lyrium, the feeling of Anders and the sound of his begging it would have been impossible for Fenris to hold off any longer but he didn't care. He wanted to see Justice make Anders come with an almost sick fascination and arousal. 

“You’re full of me now, pet, is Justice going to let you come? I want to see that,” Fenris purred breathlessly, panting against Anders’ throat even as he tugged and twisted at the mage’s nipples. 

Anders was a shivering wreck, assaulted with so much sensation it nearly overloaded him. He cried out when Fenris bit him but there was only pleasure vibrating in his voice, nothing more. Now that the requirement had been fulfilled, Anders licked his parched lips.

“Justice, please… Make me come. Make me come hard for Master, I want him to see how much I have for him, please Justice, let me-” 

It looked like the spirit was in a good mood, because Anders’s back arched sharply and he gasped, his body clenching down on Fenis as if wanting to milk the last drops out of him and after two small cries and twitches, Anders came with a scream, body straining against the ropes and his dark, painfully erect penis released the longest, thickest jet of semen Fenris have ever seen. Two smaller ones followed, then Anders collapsed, nearly hyperventilating; his penis continued to twitch softly, some more semen dribbling out. Justice probably forced everything out of him, and plunged Anders into that peculiar mindset again.

Fenris had to grind his teeth not to cry out in pained pleasure at how tightly Anders’ entrance was clutching and squeezing his cock. The sight of Anders _broken_ was so arousing that he wanted to be able to harden again just so he could come all over again. 

Purring happily, Fenris ran his hands over every inch of Anders’ skin as he carefully pulled out of him to make sure he wasn't too rough with skin that was likely tender and swollen. Fenris carefully lay Anders on his side and began to undo the ropes holding him in place, whispering praise to him. He kissed Anders’ lips gently as he pulled off the blindfold. 

“Hello,” Fenris said with a smile. 

“We’re not doing this anytime soon,” Anders breathed, still panting a little. “I nearly died! I have rope burns all over! You smug fucks, the both of you!” He laughed. “I love you both. Maker, I’m still unable to move. Justice did a number on me… I think my balls _shriveled_.” He pouted at Fenris. “You have to make up for all this misery, I hope you know that.”

Fenris laughed and gathered Anders in his arms, lying back against the headboard to hold him close. “You did very well, darling. I'm proud of you. I wouldn't call it ‘misery’ though, when you came so hard.” Fenris was quiet for a few moments. “Love _both_ of us, do you?” 

“You have to learn to share I guess,” Anders shrugged. “Justice had been living inside my body for years now, longer than I have known you. He supported me, encouraged me… he gives his power to me so I could do more, bear more. He’s a friend. I love him. And, if I may remind you, he can do things to my body that would be otherwise impossible. And he likes you too, a great deal.”

“Does he, now?” Fenris asked, trying to hide his curiosity behind amusement. The idea should have been disconcerting but it wasn't and Fenris found that… good. “I… In what way, if I'm allowed to ask? Are you comfortable? Hungry, thirsty? Cold?”

“You just fed me, love,” Anders snickered and cuddled closer. “Perhaps some water will be nice… And a blanket we can sleep under like this. So close… I need to rest. It’s been a tiring day.” He buried his face into the crook of Fenris’ neck. “Justice says he already told you that he admires your courage and strength, skill, loyalty… and your lyrium. He’s proud to be able to fight by your side.”

Fenris hummed softly as he disentangled himself from Anders temporarily to get the cup of water still with some left in it. “Can you hold this while I get the blankets?”

“I think I’ll manage,” Anders nodded and wiggled into a more or less sitting position, minding his backside. On his pale skin, the ropes left marks, but Anders only smiled at them. They were a little sore, nothing more, and they were going to remind him of this evening for a few days - he was not about to heal them.

“Good,” Fenris said softly, planting a gentle kiss on Anders’ lips before he climbed off the bed and got the covers that he'd set aside for today so they wouldn't get in the way or get dirty. He returned after a few moments and lay the blankets out on the bed, waiting for Anders to finish the water so he could pull the covers up and slide in beside him. “These don't hurt too much?” Fenris asked as he lightly skimmed his finger over an inch of the rope marks. 

“Oh yes, they do. Exquisitely.” Anders covered a yawn and wrapped himself around his lover. “Stop worrying, you mother hen. I’m fine. I just need a little sleep.” He kissed Fenris, long and soft, then tucked the elf under his chin. “Goodnight.” 

Fenris smiled and nuzzled close, sighing happily. “Goodnight, Anders… Goodnight, Justice,” Fenris added after a moment. “Sleep well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still with us? OKami commissioned a little illustration for this chapter, which can be found [HERE](http://askbroodyelf.tumblr.com/post/146029708594/commission-for-emeraldscholar-life-was-peaceful); it's Anders in bondage. =3


	17. Means To An End 1

The kitchen was probably the warmest place in Fenris’ mansion; when the weather was mean, him and Anders tended to linger there, Fenris reading, Anders writing or preparing ingredients. The fire was always going, and most often, there was a kettle breathing steam into the air, ready to yield boiling water for tea; and there was an iron plate to toast bread that was topped with butter, honey or jam, according to the occasion. 

The weather had been chilly as of late, a gloom settling over Kirkwall like a sinister promise. The elf and the mage did what they could to counter it: napping, cuddling, lovemaking, and their friends provided plenty to fun, too, from missions to card games. 

Anders was presently brewing something; he just finished it, and carefully poured the off-white liquid into a small bowl, mixed it with a few other things then set it aside to cool. Then, he turned and leaned against a counter, staying silent for a few moments for the sake of marveling at Fenris. 

“Love?” Anders finally spoke up. “I have a proposal. Of the naughty persuasion; we have spoken of it before. I thought we could do it.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow and finished the sentence he was reading before he looked up. “We've talked about a lot of things, mage. Go on then, tell me.” Fenris set his bookmark - a scrap piece of leather - in place and put the book down in order to focus on Anders, curious as to what he wanted. It wasn't rare for them to discuss sexual things outside of bed but they were usually cuddling on the sofa, at least, not sat in the kitchen. 

“Well.” Anders steepled his fingers with a smirk. “You probably remember me mentioning a few times how I like to be marked by you? Bites, bruises… your seed on my skin. I might have mentioned it that I’d love to be covered in it… And I have a vague recollection of you reacting positively to the idea. Is that still the case?” He pushed himself away from the counter and strolled up to Fenris, stopping behind the elf and sneaking arms around his shoulders. 

“Would you still like to see me covered in your essence, love?” Anders purred wickedly.

Fenris grinned as he tipped his head back to look up at Anders, hands gripping the mage’s forearms and stroking them slightly in soft movements. “I would. I might have expressed a fondness for marking you, in any way I can,” Fenris smirked back, reaching up to touch the dark bite on Anders’ throat that he'd left the night before, grinning as he did so. “How are you going to make me come so much, amatus? How will you tease every last drop out of me?”

“I have my methods…” Anders began to tease Fenris’ ear with a fingertip. “I’m a healer, as you surely recall.” He snickered. “I can do a lot of things with my magic and my knowledge, aaand, I’m very confident in my skills of making things grow. Or, in this case, not exactly grow, just enhance… Alright, bottom line is, I can make you produce a lot more semen, with the careful administration of certain medicines and practices. It’ll take a little while, and you’ll be out of commission during it, but it’s unlikely that another disaster would strike in the next two days.”

“Two days?” Fenris asked, eyebrows shooting up. “What are you planning to do to me? Return the favour and tie me up for your personal use?” Words that would once have hit too close to home, even when spoken by himself, no longer had the same effect; they just reminded him how much Anders trusted him, how much they loved each other. It was amazing, really. “Will it hurt?”

“No, no, not at all,” Anders soothed. I’d just like to stay near you, and the salve I designed should be applied several times a day… which won’t be fun while on a mission. Or, it would be heaps fun, except for the others.” He laughed and rounded Fenris, to sit in the chair in front of him. “The potion I have is tested - it makes you a little… docile, if you want. It’s a very mild sedative, it won’t cloud your mind, but it’d make you very calm, and sort of- indifferent. You won’t be inclined to make decisions unless necessary. It’ll also cancel your sex drive, because what would be the point in wasting the good stuff? According to previous reports, you’ll just have a great time snuggled up in bed, most probably with a good book - that surely doesn’t sound dangerous, does it?”

“No…” Fenris admitted hesitantly. “But… I don't like the thought of being docile due to a potion. I don't like the idea that I can't protect myself, protect you, while under its influence. Would it be possible to… get rid of that effect? Or do without it? Is it necessary?” Fenris reached across the counter to take hold of Anders’ hands, enjoying the simple touch. 

“It doesn’t work like that,” Anders corrected. “If anyone tried to harm us, you’ll still take your sword to defend us; the potion doesn’t take away your logic or change who you are, you’ll be just… very, very calm. Besides… Don’t forget that I can be a formidable foe under pressure. Justice is a force to reckon with. I’m quite sure he could swing that sword around if push came to shove. I have seen him fighting in full armor.”

Fenris fell silent as he considered it. “If I needed you to… could you lift the effects? I need to know that you can stop it if I want you to,” Fenris said softly before scowling at himself. “I… I don't know why it matters so much.”

”Hmm,” Anders rubbed his chin in thought. “It should be possible. Give me a few days then, and I’ll come up with a solution. A purge and dispel combination should work- At least, we can make some preparations in the meantime. Observations suggest that certain foods help semen production, as well as plenty of water. You’re certainly fit enough… You know, warriors tend to be more… vigorous.” Anders grinned and squeezed Fenris’ hand. “So, are we doing this?”

“I… suppose,” Fenris said, trying to relax and make himself like the plan. He liked the aftermath, very much, but everything leading up to that was… different. “I trust you. Maker knows why.” Fenris grinned back, rubbing his thumb gently over the inside of Anders’ wrist. 

“Most possibly because you’re madly in love with me,” Anders batted his eyelashes. “Now, since we don’t really have other pressing matters, I’ve borrowed a cookbook from Orana, and if you help me, I think we could put together a passable apple pie. Or if not, we’ll just visit Hawke’s, and ask Orana to bake one for us.”

Fenris cheered up immediately at that, pointed ears twitching ever so slightly in excitement. “I'd like that. That's definitely something you can talk me into,” Fenris laughed as he stood, coming round to Anders. He cupped the mage’s cheek in his hand and smiled a little. “I am most definitely madly in love with you, by the way.”

Anders kissed him, to show his approval. 

The baking went reasonably well, considering neither of them was used to such complicated cooking; Anders was good with soups, Fenris could roast things but making a pie proved to be a surprisingly complex task. They carefully measured ingredients - Anders mentioned that he normally used amounts a lot smaller -, mixed them, and the resulting dough matched the description. The apples were grated, drained and spread into the pan, on top the dough and the completed product was put in the oven.

Anders poured the apple juice into two cups and clinked his to Fenris’. “I think we did a good job. Now if we manage to not burn it, we could be truly proud of ourselves. Do you know that apples are considered an aphrodisiac?” He grinned. “I saw you munching on the cores.”

Fenris blushed softly. “I like them,” he said, slightly defensively. “I never got to have one before I met Hawke and now I can indulge. The aphrodisiac part was your whole plan, wasn't it?” Fenris grinned widely, taking a sip of his apple juice with a soft hum at the taste. 

“Yes, but we didn’t have anything else, and I had to take that into consideration,” Anders shrugged. “I can see that you’re a little uneasy about the plan…” He opened his arms, beckoning Fenris closer. “I assure you, you won’t be harmed, or changed or anything. Think of it as a calming tea. I would never subject you to anything that’d twist you out of yourself; I’m way too fond of the genuine original.”

At the invitation, Fenris immediately moved closer, tucking himself into Anders’ arms, curling around him with a soft, happy sigh. “Alright. A calming tea, I can do that. I'll have you to watch over me as well just in case, and Justice. It'll be fine…” Fenris said softly, more to himself than to Anders. “I can do that.”

“Danarius is dead, remember? It’s been a while,” Anders caressed the white hair. “No more running. No-one can hurt you. Me and Justice will keep watch. He always does, anyway. You’ll be fine. Spoiled, in fact, with cookies and apples and lots of loving attention. I’ll still sleep in your arms.” His hands began to wander lower, one rubbing Fenris’ shoulder, the other his waist in soothing circles. “You know… Since you won’t be able to come for two days, maybe… I should sate your needs beforehand…?”

Fenris chuckled with a grin and leaned close, ghosting his lips teasingly over Anders’. “Go ahead. Do with me what you will, my amatus…” He was quiet for a few moments. “It makes me feel more comfortable, that Justice is always watching over us. Odd, isn't it? It wasn't all that long ago that I used him to justify my feelings of anger and hatred towards you. You taught me though, and so did he.”

“You taught us, too,” Anders said, voice wavering a little, and his eyes lit by blue from the back. “You stood by us and showed us that one can overcome the past; it does not need to define the present.” Anders kissed Fenris, his lips tasting faintly of lyrium. “Justice would like to come forth.”

“Let him,” Fenris whispered against Anders’ mouth, fingers curling into the fabric of his clothes. The taste of Anders when Justice was so close to the front was addictive and delicious. Fenris used the grip he had on Anders to pull the mage closer. 

The change was subtle, but noticeable; Anders pulled himself up straighter, his grip grew firmer and his sigh carried the echoes of the Fade. Justice kept his hands on Fenris, the tip of his nose buried between white tresses. The air around him felt charged with magic, pulsing calmly; it was a welcome change after the nervous crackling from before. The spirit had changed a lot in the past years, and for the better. 

“You don’t need to be worried,” Justice rumbled soothingly. “I will protect you, should you need it. Anders means well and he speaks the truth. You’ll remain a warrior.”

Fenris hummed softly and turned his head a little to allow Justice more room. “I know he does. I trust you, both of you. It is just… difficult.” The gentle thrumming of his lyrium due to Justice’s proximity felt good, and made him shiver with the beginning drips of arousal. Fenris had never expected to _invite_ Justice’s presence, let alone enjoy it, but he did and it was a welcome change for all three of them, he felt. 

“Perhaps you need to read more complicated books,” Justice teased, dipping his head to trace the glowing lines on Fenris’ chin with his lips. “To broaden your vocabulary.” He shivered; the magical substance didn’t leave him unaffected. “You proved to be worthy in every way,” he murmured. “I came to genuinely like you. Not just because your delicious lyrium.” He cautiously licked at Fenris’ throat. “Though I have to admit…”

Fenris gasped a little and let his head fall back, opening himself up to Justice with a tightening of his hands where they were gripping fabric. Unable to help the slight twitch of a smirk, Fenris said, “‘Came to like me’ as in past tense? I can't help but feel especially liked right now.” The tiny smirked broadened into a small grin. 

“With all the fornication you and Anders indulge in, with me in the back of his mind, I have to admit… I’ve grown interested in these practices,” Justice confessed. “Residing in a living body with nerves still alive, one that responds on its own… It’s not an unpleasant experience, to engage in such acts. Anders wants to ravish you, and I wouldn’t want to get in his way… but if you allow me, I’d love to get both of you in the mood.”

Biting his lip a little, Fenris nodded. “Go ahead.” Lyrium fluttered and sparked pre-emptively as if it was anticipating being touched even more by the Fade spirit. “You know… If you wanted to… satisfy your curiosity by moving closer to the front of Anders’ mind, I wouldn't be… averse to it, if Anders isn't.”

“Oh. Coming from you, that is quite flattering. We shall see.” Justice’s lips curled up into a small smile and he pressed his open mouth against Fenris’ neck, lapping at the markings there, His hands dove under clothing, seeking out more of the lines and slowly prying the garments loose. He also rolled his hips slowly, in a sensual but calculated rhythm. 

Fenris moaned quietly, a hand slipping down to Justice’s hip, gripping and using the grip to pull the spirit closer still. There was no stopping the flash of bright light that shone from Fenris’ lyrium and the steady pulsing of it in time with his heartbeat. Fenris swore under his breath and automatically moved to undress the body pressed against him before he realised and stopped. “Can I…?” he asked hesitantly. 

“No,” Justice growled. “Anders finds it intriguing, the contrast between naked and clothed bodies… Also, when I said he’d like to ravish you… I meant, he’d like to be inside you. If that is alright with you.”

“Yes,” Fenris said in a pleasured sigh, letting his hands fall from Justice’s shirt back to his hips. Fenris grinned slightly, looking up at Justice with mischief in his eyes - something that usually only came out to play with Anders. “Is that what you want too, Justice? The ability to hold me close against you and feel every inch of my lyrium while you and Anders take me?”

“I’ll delight myself with your lyrium,” Justice countered modestly, as he grabbed and turned Fenris around with a force that most probably wasn’t Anders’ own. “I’ll let Anders have your body.” His fingers began to dance over the elf’s back, undoing the fastenings of his tunic.

Fenris chuckled, breathing becoming a little shaky as pleasure began to build faster and faster under his skin. “You wouldn’t enjoy my body at all? I have to say, I don’t believe that, Justice...” Fenris arched to push his hips back against the spirit, grinding slightly against him. There was a thrill that came with teasing a spirit, a being supposed to be pure and without human emotion. 

“Hmm.” Justice parted the fabric and splayed his hands out over Fenris’ back, shuddering at the feeling of lyrium pulsing under his palm. “I know how it feels being filled. I know how it feels being taken by another, accepting a lover’s flesh… And I was there when Anders had you. When he dove deep inside your body, and you accepted him. It was… undeniably pleasant, yes. You’re right, I’m going to enjoy your body as well.” He leaned closer, hands slipping to the front of Fenris’ leggings. “I believe the appropriate term here is ‘horrible tease’.”

Fenris laughed, arching again but this time to push his hips closer to Justice’s hands. He let his head fall back against Justice’s shoulder in order to look at the spirit with a grin. “If I'm being such a tease…” Fenris tilted his head a little more to drag his tongue along the line of Justice’s jaw. “Do something about it.”

“As you wish.” The glowing hands yanked Fenris’ pants down, baring his ass to the air. Justice began to caress the elf’s developing erection with one hand, while the other, a fingertip wet with saliva, ducked between the firm half-globes, to tease the hidden entrance. “Maybe I should take you,” Justice pondered. “Then let Anders take you again; I can get his body ready for another bout in a second, then again and again… He’ll run out of seed to give and I could still make him able to keep going. What do you think, how long would you last?”

“F-Fuck!” Fenris cried on a gasp. “Not long…” He laughed a little. “Oh, kaffas, please,” Fenris moaned slightly, hips jerking slightly as if he wasn't sure whether he wanted to press back for more of that teasing finger or forward for a firmer grip around his cock. “Justice, please, that's good. Maker, you make my lyrium feel so _good_.” Said lyrium began to shine even brighter as it made pleasure dart and spark along the lines, especially where they pressed against Justice, even if Anders’ clothes still blocked any skin contact.

“Perhaps another time,” Justice soothed. “We only have until the pie is ready. Keep your hands on the counter and your legs spread while I prepare you.” He reached for the cooking oil; it was going to work well this once. He coated his fingers with it and slipped them into Fenris slowly, finger-fucking him cautiously so he won’t accidentally push the elf over the edge.

Fenris did as he was told, gripping the counter tightly as widening the spread of his legs. Even in this position, there was no mistaking just whose fingers were inside him, not with how the cracks of blue Fadelight called to his lyrium and made him burn with desire. 

“Justice, _please_ ,” Fenris begged, and yes it was most definitely begging but Fenris couldn't find it in himself to care. 

The spirit hummed and made short work of the entrance. Once he deemed it sufficient, Justice primly wiped his hands with a rag before undoing Anders’ pants on the front, freeing the erection from its confines. He gave the flesh a few experimental tugs, as he had seen his mortal doing it, and Justice shuddered from the intensity of pleasure.

He teased Fenris’ hole with the tip. “I’m going to give Anders back to you now,” he said, “But I’ll be close. Very close.”

There was a soft gasp then, and a chuckle, this time mostly free of the rumbling echoes. “Oh wow,” Anders exclaimed. “I’m getting spoiled! Look at this fine dish, perfectly prepared, just ripe for the taking. I could get used to this.” He pushed in slowly, stopping after two inches. “Soo, I better not even look at others, but you can try and seduce my spirit, hmm?”

Fenris laughed a little with a choked moan, spine arching beautifully as he pushed back for more. “I don't think I needed to _try_ very hard,” Fenris pointed out. “And does it really count if he's in the same body?” Fenris grinned and pushed himself up enough to grab the back of Anders’ neck and pull him close enough to kiss, awkwardly and messily with the angle but it was enough for Fenris. 

The motion also brought Anders deeper inside, so they both moaned into the kiss. “Mwell-” Anders huffed once their lips parted. “I have no such excuses.” He sheathed himself fully inside, shivering from the exquisite feeling then began to move, rolling his hips fluidly, setting a nice pace - neither too slow, neither too quick. “Nnh, Fenris…!” Anders moaned. “You feel so good, love. So hot.”

“K-Keep talking,” Fenris managed to say, eyes slightly clouded with desire. “Please?” The removal of Justice from the surface of Anders’ body had taken with it the surety of knowing who was touching him, even if Fenris could see Anders if he turned his head. The bright glow of his lyrium had dulled to a gentle pulsing shine. 

“Mm. I’m so glad you let me do this,” Anders continued. “You are so generous, and you came so far, my brave love. I love to be inside you, it feels so special.” One of his hands flattened out over Fenris’ tones stomach. “Oh! I can feel it-” He chuckled. “Does it feel good? As I fill you up, like no-one else can?” His hand trailed upwards, magic prickling at the fingertips as they skimmed over white lines. “Do you like it when I touch you like no-one else can?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Fenris moaned, pushing back for more as the lyrium sparked again, not with the intensity it did for Justice but still bright. “Only you… Only you and Justice. Just you, only you're allowed.” The soft murmuring continued as Fenris moaned again, scratching at the counter. “Please, I need more, please.”

Anders chuckled, pleased by the begging. He let the elf hold his full weight, Anders’ left closing around Fenris’ throat and squeezing lightly while his right curled around the elf’s penis and began to tug gently. Somehow he was also able to keep up with the thrusting. 

“Oh yes, you’ll get all of me… I’ll fill you up, I’ll fuck you so good, then watch as my seed trickles out of you, down on your bare thighs. You’re my dirty little elf, and I love you so much. Damn, one of these days I should put something into your ass and make you keep it there… I let you play with me, don’t you think it’d be polite to return the favor?” 

Fenris couldn’t stop the high keening whine that escaped from him, one hand coming up off the counter to grip at Anders’ hair tightly. “Y-Yeah, I could let you do that,” Fenris managed, hips jerking into the slow stroking of Anders’ hand. The edge of the counter was pressing into his stomach and there would be a line left there but Fenris didn’t care; it grounded him, helped him to hold off the rapidly approaching orgasm. 

It further helped that Anders let go in favor of grasping Fenris’ hips tight. He began to pound into the elf in earnest, hissing in delight. “Oh yes…! I’ll take one of the toys we have and cram it up your lovely ass… let you walk around with it, watch you squirm… tie you up, perhaps, so you won’t be able to bring yourself off… Oh, Fenris…! You feel so good, love! Say my name… I like to hear it.”

“Anders!” Fenris cried, pushing for more and letting his hand tangle tightly in Anders’ hair to hold him closer. “Anders, Anders, please… I'm close, keep going, please. I'd let you tie me up, let you do anything. I'm going to let you drug me,” Fenris laughed. 

Anders laughed along and pried the fingers out of his hair. “Hands on the counter. Brace yourself, because your lovely buns are going to get a nice cream filling...” He sped up, moaning with delight. “Oh my sweet Fenris, my delicious cinnamon bun…! Come for me, love!” 

Fenris laughed at Anders’ words before he moaned loudly and came, scrabbling at the counter and scratching slightly into the wood. Even sensitive from orgasm, the feeling of Anders pistoning inside of him had Fenris whining softly. 

“Come inside me, Anders, please,” Fenris groaned, arching and pushing back, squeezing around Anders to try and add to the mage’s pleasure. 

“Y-yes…” Anders curled his arms around Fenris’ midsection, his right hand teasing the elf’s balls and penis. “Don’t worry, I’ll-” He gasped. “Oh, I’ll fill you up… F-Fenris, Fenris…!” With a desperate grunt and a couple of firm thrusts, Anders reached his peak. Momentarily exhausted, he draped himself over his lover, knowing that Fenris could take his weight. “Oh, that was nice… So very nice.” His fingers never rested though, still rolling the elf’s testicles gently. 

Fenris swore again and shuddered at the feeling. “Anders, stop,” Fenris all but begged with a soft laugh. “That was good… Did you and Justice enjoy yourselves?” Fenris looked over his shoulder at Anders and fluttered his eyelashes cheekily with a smirk. “I hope Justice knows that I'll be very disappointed if he doesn't follow through with those promises…”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Anders smiled, tugging on Fenris’ cock and milking the last drop of semen from it. “He’s always true to his word. Mmnow.” He carefully pulled out then straightened, testing his legs. They held. “Stay a little.” He crouched down and gently spread Fenris’ ass, to marvel at the white drops dribbling out. “Ooh, look at that. So beautiful. So wanton. Did we fill you up well, my dear?”

Shivering with the last drips of arousal, Fenris nodded. “Yes, you did… Is it from now on that I'm not allowed to come for your… plan?” Fenris bit his lip in slight embarrassment when he began to feel Anders’ seed dripping from him down the crack of his ass and the tops of his thighs. 

“You will notice when the treatment starts,” Anders chuckled then stood and fetched a rag to wipe his lover’s backside clean. “I promised to do more research, so for, hmm, two days, you can still do whatever you want, though I’d like to supervise your diet. Ah, there you go, one clean elf. We should clean up the rest of the mess, too.” He sniffed the air. “If the taste will be as good as the smell, we definitely accomplished something.”

\---

Fenris looked at the potion with skepticism and then looked up at Anders before looking back to the potion. “This is it?” Fenris asked hesitantly. “This will make me calm and relaxed so your… thing will work? And if Hawke comes, you will tell him I'm unwell?”

“Everyone knows your lyrium was unpleasant at times,” Anders explained. “I noticed that you haven’t complained about it for a while, but we can always say I found a remedy to the pain and we’re testing it out. Hawke’s no mage and Merrill isn’t an expert, they’ll buy it. I can also dispel the effect, no worries.“ He pulled Fenris closer and kissed him. 

“This is half the potion, actually; the effect will wear off, and if by then you decide you don’t want to do this, you’ll be able to tell me. I love you. I’m going to take good care of you and you deserve some spoiling, anyway.” 

Fenris smiled a little and pulled Anders closer still, kissing him softly, more a sweet brushing of lips than a real kiss. 

“I love you so much,” Fenris whispered, looking up at him. “You and Justice are going to look after me, aren't you? Take care of me… As for the lyrium, it doesn't hurt anymore, nowhere near like it did. Not beyond the ache if I use it too much or too often. Justice’s presence helps a lot.”

“I hoped that was the case,” Anders grinned. “I’m glad it doesn’t bother you. Justice is glad, too. We’re going to spoil you rotten.” He kissed the elf again. “Now, off with the pants, drink your medicine and bundle up in bed! I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”

Fenris rolled his eyes before undressing and throwing back the potion, ready to grimace at the taste before being pleasantly surprised by the soft taste of herbs and tingle of magic on his tongue. He set the vial aside and climbed into bed, slipping under the covers and holding them up with a raised eyebrow as he waited for Anders to join him.

“No, love, I have something to do,” Anders shook his head. “I just want you to be comfortable and let the potion work. Read or take a nap, I’ll be with you later, and of course, you can’t kick me out of the bed for the night.”

Fenris frowned - it most definitely wasn't sulking _-_ and dropped the blankets, pulling them around him. “Fine. Meanie,” Fenris added with a twitch of a smile. “Come back soon though?”

“You won’t even notice that I was gone,” Anders promised. “I just have to peel an apple or two. Don’t forget to drink!” With a grin, he disappeared into the kitchen. 

Rolling his eyes, Fenris settled into the bed more and closed his eyes, curling into the warmth provided by the covers. The thought of apple slices made him smile even as the soft tingle of the potion did its job. Fenris relaxed steadily as he felt a gentle calm wash over him inch by inch. 

Anders came back as promised, with three neatly peeled and sliced apples on a plate. He set that on the nightstand then settled down on the edge of the bed, tracing his fingers through Fenris’ hair. “So? How do you feel?”

Fenris purred softly deep in his throat and nuzzled closer to Anders’ hand in a very definite catlike manner. “You're back…” he breathed with a smile. “I feel… good. Happy. Nothing to worry about… It's nice.”

“You sound a little drunk, but that’s fine,” Anders mused with a fond smile, carefully sweeping white strands of hair behind Fenris’ ear and caressing his cheek with his thumb. “It’s good that you’re happy. You deserve that, you have worried for so long. You’re so sweet like this.” He leaned closer for a kiss. 

“Cuddle with me?” Fenris asked, tilting his face into the touch with a smile. “Get undressed and lie down, Anders, I want you here with me.” He tugged at Anders’ sleeve a little and waited for him to do so. 

“Well, fine. I can do that.” Anders briefly stood to disrobe, then slipped under the covers. “I brought the apples, love, and I’ll have to fetch the salve for your jewels, but that can wait. Let me try something.” His fingertip lit up with a spark, and he dragged it along the lines adorning Fenris’ chin. “How does this feel?”

Fenris sighed softly as arousal danced along the line that Anders’ finger traced. “Anders… That's nice… Stop, you said- I don't want to get hard if I'm not allowed to come,” Fenris complained. “Lie with me.”

“You’re not supposed to get aroused, to avoid wasting the juice,” Anders pointed out. “Looks like the potion haven’t fully kicked in yet. But it will and then I’ll be able to do whatever I want.” He couldn’t help the pleased grin. Anders fetched an apple slice and bit half of it off, offering the other half to Fenris.

“It’s a miracle no-one ever caught us like this,” Anders mused. “Hopefully Andraste will favor my other- job, too.”

“So the potion won't let me get aroused at all?” Fenris asked, blinking slowly. He took the bit of apple happily, licking at Anders’ fingers to get any sweetness left behind. He hummed happily. “Other job? You mean with your mage underground?”

“Yes,” Anders said softly. “It’s getting more difficult. The templars are relentless and the Chantry is unwilling to listen. Elthina will deny that something is wrong until her dying day.” His voice gained a faint echo and Anders buried his face into the crook of Fenris’ shoulder. “I don’t want to spoil this with all that negativity. We’re going to have fun. Meaning, I’m going to have fun. That salve I mentioned? It’ll be applied directly to your balls, love. Not the most efficient method, but it’s the best we have.”

Fenris made a soft noise in response and stroked his fingers through Anders’ hair. “Tell Justice to behave,” Fenris said. “You'll work it out, love. It'll be fine. Do you want to do the salve now?”

“I just got in bed, love. I’m quite content here at the moment,” Anders pointed out. “I’ll let the potion work a while, it wouldn’t do any good if you got a hard-on from the nice little massage, because then I’d be hard pressed to relieve you from your misery.” He kissed Fenris and took the plate. “Eat your apples. They’re healthy.“ He touched another slice against Fenris’ lips.

Fenris easily gave in, taking the slices with a soft, happy sound and the low, continuous purr in his throat. “You're good to me,” he said quietly. “I love you. Stay here with me forever.”

Anders opened his mouth, then closed it. He let Fenris take another bite, then kissed him again, tongue working lazily inside the elf’s mouth, lapping up the sweet juice of the fruit. His hand crept underneath the cover and settled atop Fenris’ stomach, eventually rubbing it in soothing circles.

“I love you too,” he muttered. “I will always love you.” He ducked his head to kiss the side of Fenris’ throat.

Fenris’ purr became louder, something that would normally embarrass him and make him blush. Instead, he merely nuzzled closer, tilting his head to allow Anders more space as he arched a little, looking for more of the mage’s soft touch. “Good. I’d miss you too much if you ever left. Can we leave the apples for now? I want to cuddle you more.”

“Sure, love.” There was an odd eagerness in Anders’ movements as he pressed closer, slipping his tongue back into Fenris’ mouth. His hand was still rubbing, petting the toned, dark body everywhere except between the legs. 

“Oh Fenris… you are so beautiful. You made my life so much better.”

“Good,” Fenris replied with determination. “You saved me, from everything. _You're_ my everything. My Anders, my mage. I like it when you touch me, it makes me happy. I feel a little bit less disgusted with myself because you like to look at me and touch me…”

“What, you still feel like that? Come on, Fenris. You’re perfect. Strong, reliable, kind,” Anders listed. “Slender, agile, handsome. Smart. Witty.” He chuckled. “Even funny occasionally.” He began to shower Fenris’ skin with kisses, starting from his chin then heading down over his neck, collarbones, chest. 

“Justice doesn’t care about your appearance, but he appreciates your qualities, and he loves the lyrium.”

Fenris smiled, letting his fingers tangle in Anders’ hair. “Justice is sweet too. I like him. I don't think it's something that will ever stop,” Fenris admitted. “After so long being told I'm ugly, disgusting, and being used by Danarius, I don't know if it will ever go away. You know, I don't know how old I am or when my birthday is. I'm sorry, I don't want to make you sad.”

Anders shook his head. “Who told you you’re ugly? It was yourself, and you weren’t the best judge of the situation. Look at your life now! You have friends, you have a lover - those things don’t come to unworthy people. Unless they have the coin, of course, but you definitely didn’t pay us a copper to like you.” He grinned and slipped lower, to give some loving attention to Fenris’ midsection and belly.

“I happen to have a very refined taste,” Anders added, “so if you were disgusting, I wouldn’t do this.” His tongue dipped into Fenris’ navel. “You’re younger than I am. And elves age gracefully, so you’ll keep your charm for a good while.” 

Fenris giggled, arching into it. “That tickles. My two lovers,” Fenris sighed with a smile. “If you're older than me, does that make me your boy toy? My hair’s already white so I don't need to worry about going grey. I think I saw a grey in here the other day,” Fenris teased, running his hands through Anders’ hair with a lazy grin. 

“With all the horrors I’ve seen and am forced to live with? It’s a miracle I’m not bald!” Anders complained. “Well, I’m a little shy of forty… You’re definitely younger than that. Maybe even with ten years-” He paused. “I’ve never actually thought about this. You probably are much younger than me.” He smirked. “Once the potion wears off, I’m going to ask you if you’d like that, me being your daddy. Actually-” He blushed a little. “I- quite liked nursing you… Let’s not go there again. It’s an interesting idea, except that you’re rubbish at role games.” He planted a few kisses on Fenris’ lower belly.

“You want me to be your baby?” Fenris asked, grinning. “Maybe I just need my daddy to teach me how to roleplay properly. But seriously,” he said, stroking through Anders’ hair slowly, “I know I'm bad. I get worried. Like that time we went out and had sex, I was scared those Templars were coming down and they'd take you away from me. It's silly and foolish, and I worry about disappointing you with it too. You know, I wouldn't be this honest without this potion. That should probably be concerning.”

“I’m more disappointed with myself,” Anders admitted. “For not being able to do more for you. You shouldn’t feel like that. You’re strong, you can take on the templars. I have Justice. You escaped a Tevinter magister and killed him; it doesn’t get more awesome than that perhaps aside stopping Blights.” He sighed. “But I know that knowing doesn’t always help and telling you to stop feeling like that won’t help. It’s not necessarily bad, you know. It’s just how you are. Every one of us have good and bad qualities - even me.” He grinned. “That makes us interesting. I have never complained about it, have I?” 

“It's not your fault I think it,” Fenris promised. “It might never go away but with you, I sometimes feel attractive, hot as you would say. You make me feel good about myself. And Justice makes me feel like my lyrium doesn't make me a monster. You're good for me, the pair of you. Is Justice there?”

Anders took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly; when he opened them, they glowed in piercing blue. “We’re both here,” he said, voice laced with echoes. “Both of us. We listen and protect. We also love you.” They rose and reached out to caress Fenris’ face. “Aren’t you cold?” As Anders quested downwards with his lips over Fenris’ anatomy, the blanket was pulled away.

“Not yet,” Fenris said, sighing happily as Justice’s presence tugged at his lyrium pleasantly. “I like it when you're both here like this. Sometimes I wish Justice had a body of his own so I could watch the two of you together. I’d like to see that. Anders, are you trying to get me hard? I think you missed your chance by about ten minutes.” Fenris grinned and continued stroking his fingers through Anders’ hair. 

“We are aware of that.” They sounded so smug. “We like you like this. We like your body, every part of it. We like you soft and hard, and currently, we wish to appreciate you as we seldom have the chance.” They sat up, the blanket drawn over their shoulders like a cape and they began to pet Fenris’ flaccid penis. “Anders thinks it’s cute.” The glowing gaze shifted subtly to the side. “And Justice wishes he could have a body, too. He’d love to engage with both you and Anders.”

“Anders thinks my penis is cute? Or that I'm not usually like this? Careful, whether I'm amused or offended depends entirely on your answer,” Fenris teased, starting to purr again happily at the feelings Justice and Anders were drawing from him. “I'd like Justice here so the three of us can cuddle. Cuddling Anders is one of my favourite things to do.”

Their chuckle rippled in the air like silk. “Anders appreciates it very much. He likes to cuddle, too. You fit against him so well.” They leaned down gracefully and kissed Fenris’ soft flesh. “We really think your body is flawless. Mortals like you are a work of art; chiseled to perfection by determination. Your muscles are like liquid steel. Your skin is brown velvet. Your hair, white silk. The lyrium, a subtle, hidden power and a song only to be heard by us. Your penis…” They cradled it in one hand, like something precious. “It’s small like this, but we love to watch it grow from our touch. It’s a marvelous transformation as it gathers blood and arches up, showing us how much you enjoy our presence. It brings us so much joy.”

Fenris laughed softly. “Perhaps I was made for you, if you love everything about me. Maybe the Maker looked at you and said ‘Ah, a foolish mage who will host an equally foolish Fade spirit. I'd best make them someone who will stop them being quite _so_ foolish.’” He grinned and arched beneath them. “It would explain a lot, wouldn't it?”

Their back arched up, like a cat’s. “We are not foolish.” Their voice grew more otherworldly, a subtle warning. “We are Anders and we are Justice. Do not joke about us.” Their hand lightly caressed Fenris’ body. “We take responsibility when others dare not. We strive for freedom and justice. There’s nothing foolish about that and we know you were joking… but please refrain from doing it again.”

Fenris shushed them softly and brought his hands up to stroke their cheeks. “I didn't mean that, loves. Never that. I think it's dangerous and admirable, but never foolish. I just meant your general oddities. My mage who is so foolishly generous and wonderful that he would give away the clothes on his back if I let him, and my spirit who is so foolishly fierce and strong that he would kill anyone who dared threaten us. My two wondrous creatures.”

“That’s better.” They moved back down and sucked Fenris into their mouth, their tongue stroking the soft flesh. 

Fenris purred at the warmth and wetness, not-quite arousal making his mind foggy. “Anders… Justice. That feels good. Come up here and kiss me?” he asked softly, twirling their hair around his fingers. 

They moved immediately, covering Fenris’ body with their own. Their kiss was charged with power, a faint aroma of lyrium lingering on their tongue, the Fade’s taste. The kiss deepened, it grew more passionate and they rolled their hips against Fenris’. They were growing hard, body warming up, their breath quickening.

“You taste good,” Fenris murmured against their lips, sighing as he shifted enough to lift his knee between Anders’ legs, high enough for him to rut against. “Shall I suck you off, or do you want to keep kissing me while you rub yourselves against me?”

They sucked in some air and their voice trembled with need. “We… would appreciate your mouth. Please Fenris.” A few more kisses came before they pulled back. “Where would you like us-?”

“Lie down on your back and I'll sit between your legs. Is that what you want?” Fenris asked, grinning as he licked at their lips with the tip of his tongue. “Would you like that?”

“If that’s comfortable for you, it’s alright,” they nodded. “It’s not just about us.” They settled back on the bed and waited, burning eyes trained on Fenris.

Fenris knelt up and settled between their thighs, a little shaky from the potion but otherwise fine. He leaned down and licked slowly up the length of their erection, eyes half-lidded. 

He was rewarded with a deep gasp, and their body relaxed. They pulled up their knees, spreading their thighs for Fenris, eager and ready. They caressed the elf’s white hair. “We remember: we shouldn’t grab your hair. Please Fenris, satisfy us. The need is overwhelming.”

“It should be okay if you grab my hair,” Fenris said, mouthing slowly along the hot, taut skin. He said nothing more as he teased briefly before taking Anders’ cock into his mouth and sucking lightly, licking wetly over every inch he could. 

Probably Anders pushed a little more to the front, because they were just as vocal as usual. Their head tipped back and they sighed and moaned softly, fingers curling up to grab the sheets. “Oh yes, please,” they pleaded breathlessly. “Make us come. We love you.”

Fenris let his eyes close as he focused on making them come. He teased his teeth ever so gently over the base of their erection and soothed it with his tongue before taking it into his mouth again, slowly pushing all the way down until his nose was pressed against pale skin cut with glowing Fade lines. 

The spirit and the human worked in perfect unison. They did not restrain themselves, letting Fenris know how they felt, but Justice’s more commanding presence was also there in the tighter grip on Fenris’ hair, an occasional calm caress and of course, the subtle feel of power in the air around the body. 

“Should we come into your mouth?” they questioned. “Do you want to taste us? We can give it or hold it back, but we are going to come anyway. You’re doing so well.”

Fenris didn't want to pull away from them, didn't want to stop, so he merely gripped their hips and lifted slightly, pulling their cock deeper into his mouth with a quiet hum. Fenris let his eyes close all the way and began to double his efforts, sucking firmly and nipping carefully everywhere he could. 

It didn’t take long to achieve his goal; their back arched, they cried out and they came, their seed trickling down Fenris’ throat. He couldn’t catch the taste, but it buzzed with energy, Justice’s power contributing to Anders’ capabilities. Their glow intensified and their voice positively vibrated with pleasure; then they fell back on the bed and it was just Anders panting on the sheets, a thin layer of sweat glistening on his skin.

“Maker…!” he moaned. “That was- that was-”

Fenris grinned happily and crawled up their body, lying on top of them, straddling their hips. “Good?” Fenris asked, nuzzling closer. “That felt good. I liked that. I love feeling your seed so full of power when Justice is here too.”

“Don’t get used to it…” Anders moaned as he curled his arms around Fenris’ waist. “It is exhausting. I feel like I’ve fought a dragon… My body probably can’t handle the strain of housing both of us actively. But- it was so worth it. It felt amazing, we were one, but two, and-” He grinned. “You made it perfect. When we came, I felt like… I was a spirit.” He smooched Fenris. “I need a few minutes, come cuddle me.”

Fenris did so happily, crawling up a little more and all but wrapping himself around Anders with a smile, closing his eyes for a few moments. “I love you,” Fenris said with a soft sigh. “Sleep if you're tired.”

“Perhaps a little nap,” Anders gave in. “I have other duties.”


	18. Means To An End 2

“Now that’s what I call progress.” Anders smiled proudly, cradling Fenris’ testicles in one hand, while he applied more of the salve on the skin that was smooth, stretched over the enlarged balls.

“A little Creation magic definitely goes a long way! They look so nice already.” He shot a lewd glance to the elf. “You’ll have so much to give me. They aren’t too sensitive right? If they perchance start to hurt, we’ll stop immediately.” 

He playfully kissed Fenris’ pulled up knee. “You’re holding up well. I’ll be done with this soon, I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.” The weather turned worse by the morning, bringing heavy, cold rain; it was good to have an excuse to not leave the house. Anders made Fenris wear a thick shirt to bed and kept him well-tucked in all day, bringing hot soup for lunch and generally fussing and doting on him all the time. 

Fenris refused to admit that he was enjoying the treatment, that he liked Anders’ mothering. He merely chuckled softly as Anders kissed his knee and continued to fondle his testicles. 

“I wouldn't catch a cold if you didn't have me bare so often,” Fenris teased softly, nuzzling into pillow slightly. “It's going well then?”

“Oh yes. I get the shivers just by looking at them,” Anders grinned. “It’d be still so much easier to just somehow apply the drug into the sac, but alas, I can’t do that without surgery. Still, you’re going to end up with a real nice bulge. I just hope you won’t come just by looking at yourself in the mirror. Come to think of it… would you like to look?”

Curiosity struck and Fenris nodded. “Are they big?” he asked, shuffling a little in the hopes of seeing them without sitting up and moving too much. “You've been spoiling me too much, I've become lazy.”

Anders laughed and he offered his arms to pull Fenris up. “See for yourself! That mirror of yours is a blessing sometimes. They’re almost twice their original size. They’ll surely feel a little heavy, if it’s uncomfortable, cup them in your hand. We don’t want to abuse your body more than necessary.” He got the elf on his feet and remained close if, perchance, he needed a little support. It was unlikely, but Anders enjoyed the fussing. 

Fenris blinked in surprise at the sudden weight hanging from him and reached down to feel them, making a soft noise of shock before beginning to awkwardly walk over to the mirror. Even cupped in his hands, his testicles were so much larger than he was used to and it somewhat impeded his walking.

Anders had his hands on Fenris’s shoulders and kissed the elf’s cheek as he stood behind him. “The added weight won’t damage you, but it might ache a bit, as they pull the skin down. You should be fine. My beautiful Fenris. Let me show you…” Anders picked the hem of Fenris’ long shirt that covered him to the middle of his thighs and slowly pulled it up, watching their reflection with hungry eyes. 

Fenris gasped, eyes glued to his balls where they hung, large and heavy. “That's… Wow. And they're not just bigger, there's also more… seed?” Fenris asked with an awkward little cough, a light blush high up on his cheeks. “All for you?”

“If I did everything right, then yes, there is!” Anders beamed. “It’s a bit of enlarging, and some fertility magic, plus something of a little extra I learned at the Circle. I still despise those days, but there were definitely fond moments.” He stared at them and licked his lips. “I find an almost perverse joy in this.” His hand slipped to Fenris’ front and began to roll the testes. 

“This isn’t going to arouse you at all, and… Maker. I feel guilty, but it’s also giving me a hard-on.”

Fenris chuckled softly. “Oh? Are you excited for it?” He lifted a hand to stroke through Anders’ hair. “Are you looking forward to being covered in my come? Don't feel guilty about it, this was what you wanted.” 

“I didn’t mean that,” Anders whispered, nibbling on Fenris’ ear. “It’s the thought that you can’t get it up. I can fondle you and fuck you, and you’re so sweet and calm, you wouldn’t protest, now would you? You’d stay soft and I can marvel at your pretty dick. I love it when it gets hard, of course, but…” He chuckled. “I guess it’s the novelty of it. I can seldom see you limp, because as soon as I touch you, you’re ready for battle.”

“You've trained it to get excited when you touch it,” Fenris said with a soft grin. “Would you like to? Fuck me, that is. I don't mind if you do. I love you and I trust you.” Fenris stroked through Anders’ hair, quietly marvelling at how soft it always was. 

“Ahm, since you offered…” Anders took Fenris’ hand and pulled it to his crotch. “Can you feel it? I’m half hard already. I’d love to fuck you… But I don’t want to undress, so- Hmm, how about you drop on your knees, suck me a little, then prepare yourself and then you can bounce on my lap like a good pet. Now, you’re my kitty. You certainly purr like one. Maybe I should go for the full effect and make good use of the tail plug and the collar we have.”

“No,” Fenris said, without his usual firm sternness and scowl. “No collar, never again.” As he spoke, Fenris got down on his knees and nuzzled against Anders’ half-hard cock through his trousers, undoing the laces and drawing it out, stroking along his length slowly, leaning forward to tease at it with his tongue, looking up at Anders with a gleam in his eye. 

“See? You can still protest.” Anders combed Fenris’ hair with his fingers. “No collar though. I get it. I got carried away. Perhaps… It’s because I feel so powerless nowadays. I’d like to get back into control.” He smiled at the elf. “But not at the cost of hurting you, love. My sweet little kitty.”

Hesitating briefly, Fenris sat back so he could look at Anders better. “Do you feel powerless because of me? Do I take charge too often?” he asked, fingers running up and down Anders’ thighs slowly. “I'm sorry if that's the case.”

“No, no! It’s not you, it’s never you!” Anders caught Fenris’ hands and lifted them to kiss the knuckles. “I like it when you take control in bed. That’s fine, and I know I can always ask you to turn the tables. You’ve grown so much. Back when we started, you wouldn’t submit to me, because of the bad memories. I’m glad I’ve managed to heal at least part of you.” He caressed Fenris’ face with a fond smile. “My love… it’s not you. It’s- my job. I can’t stay at the clinic all the time, and those who’d come see me are in more and more danger, cohorting with an apostate… All this situation is going to bear a terrible fruit and I’m afraid that-” He trailed off, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry for bringing my work home. Please continue. Take my mind off the bad things like only you can.”

“Come here,” Fenris said, standing and taking Anders’ hand, pulling him to the bed, slightly awkwardly with how large his testicles were. “Lie down, let me take care of you. You've been so good to me during this thing, let me return the favour. At least for a little while.”

“You’ll be repaying with making my dirtiest fantasy true-” Anders smiled, but he let himself pushed down. “I’m not going to protest though. You make a convincing argument… with that silver tongue of yours.” He chuckled and wiggled a little, to lie comfortably despite the clothes.

Fenris settled between Anders’ legs and picked up where he'd left off, licking slightly at his cock before taking it into his mouth, sucking happily as he reached for the oil, dousing his fingers and reaching behind him to open himself up for Anders to take him. 

“Wait, wait-!” Anders gasped and gently stilled the elf. “I want to see that. I want to see your fingers slipping inside… I’m all nice and hard already. Put on a little show for me? I’ll be ready by the time you’re ready.”

Fenris pulled back with a little laugh but turned around nonetheless for Anders to have a clear view of what he was doing. He even dropped onto his elbows so Anders could see with perfect clarity. Fenris was slow as he teased around his entrance, dipping his finger in for just a moment before he continued with the slow teasing. Eventually he pushed one finger in all the way in a smooth slide, a little pleasured gasp escaping his mouth. 

Anders couldn’t help but stare; the sight certainly didn’t let his interest diminish, not to mention his hand tugging slowly at his own erection. He could see Fenris’ penis hanging between the dark thighs, in a peaceful slumber; and it only added to the experience. Anders could almost feel Justice rolling his eyes with an exasperated sigh, but he couldn’t care less; not right now. 

“You’re beautiful like this,” he mumbled, licking his lips. “So eager to please. I’m so lucky to have you… I could watch you for hours. Let’s not wait that long though.”

Fenris laughed softly and circled his finger round once before pushing a second inside him. “Let's not wait that long,” Fenris agreed, pressing against his prostate automatically and huffing when he remembered that he didn't feel much arousal like this. He focused on stretching himself for Anders, making sure to put on a little bit of a show. 

He was not able to get hard, but Anders certainly was, and he got so hard it was starting to hurt. “I really don’t want to hurry you, love, because I know better, but there’s no need to tease me… I’m not going to last like this,” he whimpered, his hand barely moving over his eager flesh - there was no need for added stimulation. “Oh shit. You’re so sexy and I want to fuck you.”

“Then fuck me,” Fenris said, pushing his hips back in an effort to get Anders inside him. “Finish stretching me? I want your fingers inside me.” He carried on nonetheless, pushing in another finger after a moment and spreading them. 

“Ah.” Anders licked his lips and reached for the oil blindly. “Keep doing it then, you little tease.” His slick fingers traced Fenris’ rim then joined the digits already inside. “That’s it, nice and loose… You filthy little thing, so ready, so eager. I love you.” He marveled at how the skin stretched, how the heavy balls swayed with every motion. “Absolutely ravishing.”

Fenris gasped at the slight pain but wiggled his hips to entice Anders on, not that he needed to. “Then ravish me. You want to do it, so do it,” he said, squeezing tightly around their fingers before pulling his out and waiting for Anders to continue. 

“Heh. My pleasure, my plans,” Anders chided. “I like it when things go as I planned. Justice loves it too, he’s fond of order. So come-” He pulled Feris closer. “Sit on my cock and start bouncing, love. I’ve done a lot as of late, it’s time others start to work for it, too.” He grinned and leaned forward to kiss Fenris. “I’ve spoilt you quite a bit. If you liked it, now’s the time to thank me.”

Fenris turned with a grin and leaned down to kiss Anders happily as he settled into position. “Thank you kindly, ser mage. Please allow me to repay you,” Fenris teased, kissing Anders briefly once more before he sat down on his cock, wiggling slowly with the slight discomfort. 

Anders’ eyes fluttered shut and he breathed out a shuddering sigh. “Now this will never lose its novelty… Oh yes, so nice, so very nice…” He placed his hands on Fenris’ waist. “Start moving slowly, love. I’d like to enjoy this. Hmm.” He paused. “You know what’d be amazing? If Justice could switch hosts. Or simultaneously possess both of us. He could make you feel good and not let you ejaculate… That’d be fun.”

Fenris made a soft little noise of agreement as he began to move, rolling his hips slowly to start with before becoming faster, lifting himself and dropping back down on Anders’ cock happily. “Is he here?” Fenris asked, slightly breathless from exertion. 

“He’s always here,” Anders chuckled, and he let himself be wrapped up in the spirit’s embrace. The transition by now seemed natural; fear washed away long ago, now there was peace and joy whenever Justice settled beside him, like a long-time friend he was. 

“We’re both here and we listen.” Their hands grabbed the edge of Fenris’ shirt, tugging it off him. “Let us see. When your body moves, it’s like a dance.”

Fenris grinned and let them take his shirt, grinding down against them as he did so. “You just like my lyrium, Justice,” he teased, leaning down to kiss them happily, speeding up the rocking of his hips to draw out their pleasure. 

“Not just that,” they corrected. “The curve of your back. The way your thighs flex. And how your penis bounces.” They pointed between Fenris’ legs, where his member jumped with every move. “It’s cute.” They snickered, but their glowing eyes were half-lidded from pleasure, lines on their face disappearing; a sure sign that they enjoyed the lovemaking. 

Fenris chuckled softly and rearranged his elbows so he could sink his hands into their hair, kissing them again and sighing happily at the taste of Justice on Anders’ tongue. When he pulled away for air, he buried his face in their throat and squeezed tightly around them. “Now, amates,” Fenris said softly, surprising himself by using the plural, “fuck me.”

Long, seemingly frail arms wound themselves around his frame. The being that was Anders and Justice combined began to move, with a purposeful grace, precise but gentle. Both consciousnesses contributed their very best to the affair, and despite Fenris’ condition, it was at all unpleasant. The kisses felt sweet and soothing, the thrusts relaxing with their steady rhythm.

It didn’t take long until their muscles tensed up and after a few firmer thrusts, they came, their voice vibrating with pleasure, their touch igniting Fenris’ lyrium briefly, sending a spark of pleasure through him.

Fenris moaned softly, the spark in his lyrium the first thing that had made him feel true physical pleasure in the state he was in. He enjoyed sex with Anders and Justice on an emotional level equally to the physical and without the orgasm and overwhelming pleasure distracting Fenris, his heart was overflowing with love and emotion. “Was that good, my loves? Did you enjoy using my body?” Fenris asked as he nuzzled against their cheek, kissing along their jaw and cheeks. 

A subtle shift of energy indicated that Justice took over completely. He caught some of Fenris’ hair between his fingers and tugged gently, like a mother scolding a misbehaving child. “Stop implying that we only care about your body. Anders loves you and I’m also fond of you, why can’t you mortals just find peace in reassurance?” He huffed, shaking his head. “I understand that the scars of the mind and soul take long to heal but you mortals take too long, and that’s coming from a spirit, whose time is virtually endless. You are more than just your body, your skills and the lyrium. You are also kindness, loyalty and love.” He leaned forward to kiss Fenris. “Focus on your good qualities, not those you’re insecure about.”

“I was teasing, but thank you,” Fenris said with a smile, leaning down and kissing Justice. “Did you enjoy yourself too? I like feeling so close to the two of you, I love you.” Fenris nuzzled into Justice’s throat, kissing at his skin softly. 

“It was a very intense experience,” Justice murmured. “Anders’ suggestion makes me want to try to switch hosts, but if it goes wrong, I’ll be lost to the Fade, and Anders needs me now more than ever. Now, dress up and let your mage clean you up. He loves treating you.” He retreated, leaving Anders in charge, who grinned. “You heard the nice spirit, love. Put that shir back on and kneel by the bed, so I can wipe all the filth off. I’ll just- put everything back where it belongs to, and fetch a wet rag. Warm and wet.”

Fenris nodded and did as he was told, resting his cheek against the bed. “Anders…?” he asked hesitantly. “Can I ask a question? I need you to answer truthfully. It's important.” He said nothing else, simply watching the mage silently and thinking on what Justice had said. 

“Hm? Of course.” Once Anders wiped himself clean as well, he indeed wetted a clean rag from the kettle on the fireplace and carefully began to clean the dried semen from Fenris’ skin. “What is it, love?”

Remaining quiet for a few more moments, Fenris took a deep breath to prepare himself. “What are you planning? You need Justice ‘now more than ever’; what are you doing? Please don’t keep it from me in some futile attempt to protect me. It must be something about the mages, it always is when you get like this.”

“You don’t have to worry,” Anders soothed; his movements were gentle, more of a caress than thorough scrubbing. “It’s just the usual. Spring mages from the Gallows, try to reason with Elthina. It’s just… It’s getting really tedious. I’m tired of repeating myself. I’m tired of having to hide, and to risk others. Justice keeps me going. Justice and you.” He fell silent for a while. “I feel like… time is running out. Meredith is getting more crazy by the day, what if she decides she doesn’t need the Divine’s permission for an Annulment? You know that Hawke’s sister is there.”

“Then why don't you take all of the mages?” Fenris asked as if it was that simple. He thought about it for a moment before he huffed in frustration. “I know it's not that easy, you don't need to say it. But… We could do something about it. Something more full-on, something that will make more of a difference. This sneaking one out at a time obviously isn't working.”

“What should I do, blast the Gallows gate open?” Anders threw his hands in the air. “Some of the mages don’t even want to leave! I can’t fight the entire templar order… Maker sees my soul, I would love to! But it’s just... “ He hung his head. “It’s all politics, and the mages are basically just- a side effect. The Viscount’s dead, Kirkwall is slipping into chaos because Meredith practically took the seat… and Elthina supports her. I wish Hawke could be the viscount, but he’s not really interested. I fear that unless something drastic happens, thing will get- even more drastic. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, but- it’s tasking.”

“Maybe we should blow up the Gallows gate,” Fenris said with a shrug, nuzzling into the bed again as a wave of exhaustion hit him. “It would be a start. You're not on your own, my love.” He sighed softly and climbed under the sheets when Anders was done. “Lie with me. Leave it for another day. Your baby needs a cuddle.” He smiled sweetly, sleepily.

“Aww, you’re going to affect my judgment,” Anders smiled. “Go ahead without me, love. I’ll clean up the kitchen, then… I have a late night meeting with an associate. I won’t wander far, there’s not going to be a templar ambush, I’d never leave you- like this.” He snickered. “If I died before I reversed the spells, you’d come after me to the Fade and kill me again, except more painfully. Packing _these_ jewels in _those_ skintight leggings might get the city talking.” He leaned close and kissed the elf’s forehead. 

“I’ll be with you later, okay?”

Fenris frowned - because he definitely wasn't going to call it what it was; a pout - and huffed slightly. “Fine. Be careful, then come back to me. Otherwise I _will_ come looking for you and kill you.” He softened slightly and said quietly, “Please come back quickly.”

“As soon as I can,” Anders promised. “I’ll have to tend to you once more… Then tomorrow will be the day. Try to think of something kinky while you can. Once I dismiss the potion’s sedative effect, you’ll be ready to unleash your power on the world.”

“‘Unleash my power’...” Fenris said with a huff of laughter. “Alright. I'll think kinky thoughts while I fall asleep. When you get back you'd best cuddle with me, or I won't be happy. Be careful, both of you, my amates.”

“We will be.” Anders’ eyes briefly flashed with blue and he kissed Fenris’ forehead again. “I’ll tell you about this one time I was stabbed in the chest when I get back.” 

***

Fenris eventually learned the story, received some gentle treatment then had a good night’s sleep. The next morning, Anders made sure that the potion’s effect still lasted then fixed breakfast and carried it to the bedroom. 

“So! Let me hear your filthy fantasies, love. Worry not, I’ll get you ready as soon as you say the word.”

“I want to see you choke on my seed,” Fenris said immediately, glancing up after he'd said the words, blushing sweetly. “I want to come down your throat and watch you struggle to swallow it all. I’d like to come all over your skin so that anyone can see and smell that you're mine, you belong to me. Uh-- Is there anything you want?”

“A cold bath maybe,” Anders muttered. “That sounds great, actually, drinking your cum… I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint though. With a heavy heart, but I have to, I can’t make you come that much. Your seed will be thinner due to the lot of water I made you drink, and there will be a lot, but if I drink it, you won’t be able to mark me as yours, and I really want that.” He tapped his chin in thought. “I wonder if I drew a purifying rune over your bladder, could we turn your piss into water…?”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “You want me to piss on you? Tie you down and mark you as mine in the most animal way possible?” he teased, with a soft purr deep in his throat that added a rumble to the words. “Come lie with me? Or is there stuff you need to do beside feed us?”

“Love, please, let me eat, then digest in peace for a change. I don’t know what’s with you and after-meal sex?” Anders laughed. He took a bite from his buttered bread. “You probably won’t be surprised, but you pissing on me sounds exciting. Except that human waste is gross and it smells, but it is mainly water, and if I could take away everything from it that makes it gross… you could piss on me, in me, whatever. You know, sometimes I wonder what my mind is doing at moments like these, because it’s obviously my crotch talking.” 

Fenris laughed. “When I said lie with me, I meant actually lie with me. Maybe a little kissing but no more. You know I can't properly feel arousal like this. You wound me with your assumptions, amatus,” he teased with a grin. “As for pissing on you, in you, where would you want me to do it?”

“Down at Darktown, where everything smells like piss, anyway…” Anders chewed thoughtfully. “But aside that- Mm, now my mind caught up and provides the filthiest images… Like me, naked on the ground, thoroughly shagged, twitching from pleasure and pain, while you call me filthy and decide to just add to the mess… If I could make it okay, I’d even let you release it inside me… perhaps one morning, still sleepy and cozy and warm, and you just don’t feel like leaving my side… Or, there might be a lovely but vicious feral werewolf outside the city who catches wandering apostates, drags them into his cave where he marks them then mates with them… I can get creative when I have to.”

Fenris chuckled softly with a small smirk. “We could go out to Sundermount where no one will hear you scream when the big bad wolf grabs you,” he said. “If you could make it just water then… I'd be alright with that. Probably find it arousing. Then again, everything and anything about you is arousing to me. Normally, anyway. Come lie down, please? I literally just want to be next to you, I promise. Swear by Justice.”

“You don’t eat while lying down,” Anders protested, but he stuffed the rest of his bread into his mouth and curled his arms around Fenris. “Bevvr na?” He swallowed some and added. “You might want to leave Justice out of this. I know you’re not planning anything, I just have to eat... “

“You say that like I haven't spent half of our time together trying to fatten you up because you were so _thin._ I enjoy feeding you, and watching you eat. It makes me feel like I'm helping you, your cause. Making sure you don't die. Because I love you, lots,” Fenris said softly, nuzzling against Anders’ cheek like they hadn't only just been talking about filth and sex. “My Anders. My mage.”

“I love you, too,” Anders whispered. “You’re my everything. You keep me safe and sane. Well, as sane as I can be. Thank you.” He placed a light kiss on Fenris’ lips, the contact laced with a brief flash of Fade energy. 

“But I think we both know this… we love each other, we’re awesome, let’s concentrate on the present? Well, very near future.”

Fenris smiled happily at the feeling of Justice’s presence in the kiss and nodded. “What do you want to do? Do you want to try making my piss water or leave it for another time? I’m happy just covering you in come and rubbing it in, or down your throat, or coming in your ass until it's dripping out of you,” Fenris hummed happily. “How many times will I be able to come before it’s back to normal?”

“How many times depends on you… I did not enhance your stamina,” Anders chuckled. “You’ve got plenty, so- well, I really think I should get your balls back to normal, because you walk funny with them. The potion’s effect - I mean, the fertility part - should fade out in a couple of days, along with the rest… Um. You see, since we’re not allowed to peek into the innards of dead people, we know precious little about how we work, so- spirit healing is mostly about telling the spirits ‘find what’s wrong and fix it’. I’ve had a few anatomy books in my hands, mind you, but most of them don’t cover such interesting information… Like, that male and female chests are essentially the same, and if you boost them with enough magic, they’ll produce milk. Apprentices and some enchanters have been fiddling with their precious parts for ages, since there’s little else to do at a Circle, and I think what I did affected you somewhere else, too. What I know for certain is that inside stimulation helps the flow, so… we could try easing a toy into your lovely bum before you shove your cock into me.”

“I didn't mean all in one session,” Fenris said with a snort. “A toy though? I'd much prefer your cock. Fuck me first? You know you _want_ to. Then you can put a toy in me and take the spell away and we can move onto everything else. You know, I never thought I'd be asking to be fucked. Have you got any more magic fiddling of my ‘precious parts’ planned for the future?”

Fenris grinned and put a little more bread into Anders’ mouth before he set the plate aside, skimming a hand slowly up and down the mage’s side, a slight smile curling his lips. 

“Plenty,” Anders mumbled, wiggling a little. “I’m so grateful that you let me experiment, I- Well, at least I hope that all these observations are going to help someone in the future! You’re right, I’d love to fuck you and now that I think about it… There’s an easy way to prevent you from coming too early. So Justice and I will bend you over something, then we’ll fill you up with a toy, and then I’m going to let you to to me anything you want, until it’d end with me being covered in your seed. I’d like to… Have you start dressed up. I’d love to see those beautiful jewels stretching your leggings. But if it’s too much, I’ll refrain, of course. Your health and comfort is key.”

“It… doesn't sound like it'll be comfortable at all; they get kind of squished sometimes as it is, but I'd be happy to try. I could always just have some smalls on,” Fenris offered. “Maybe some of those nice lacy ones I got for you. Would you like that? Will it just be us or will Justice be joining us?”

‘He’ll be there for the first part but he’s not interested in getting dirty,” Anders explained absent-mindedly. “The lacy smalls don’t sound like a bad idea… I just like the concept of seeing you covered, after staring at your naked butt for days. You’ll have plenty of time to decide while I do the dishes and drink my tea. Because if I stay here, I’ll never get around it…” He detached himself from his lover. 

“Rise and shine, love. Time to test theories.”

Fenris chuckled and stretched, muscles aching from lack of use, before he sat up with a slight grunt, moving his balls out of the way so he didn't sit on them. Standing was a slow process, with another stretch once he was up. 

“When all this is over, I'm going to spend a couple days doing drills. I think I've been wasting away, just lying down,” Fenris said as he got his leggings, sitting down on the edge of the bed again to see whether they would be comfortable or not. 

The leggings - usually tight anyway - were uncomfortable but not horrendously so. His testicles were squashed slightly but not crushed, and he could manage it until Anders peeled them off him and fucked him. “Better than my boring old ass?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow and the beginnings of a grin. 

“Your ass is neither old, nor boring, nor will it even be, I guess, but yes, this is quite a sight.” Anders walked closer and magic flared up in his hands. He placed both hands on Fenris, feeding the spell into him, brows creasing in concentration. The effect could be felt almost immediately. 

“There we go,” Anders stepped back with a cheeky grin. “Sedatives disabled! Just don’t cream your pants too early, love. I’ll be back in a few, you just- hmm, maybe fetch a towel and a jug of water? Admire yourself in your mirror? Both sound beneficial.”

Air escaped from Fenris in a winded gasp of surprise; now that he could properly feel everything, he could _feel_ the weight of his balls, the constant thread of almost-arousal that it caused. “Maker…” he sighed softly. “It feels… amazing. Like… I don't know, there are no words to describe it.” He reached down to hold his crotch through his leggings, breath catching at the sheer size of his testicles. 

“You know what? Screw everything.” Anders flung his tunic over his head, tossed it aside then seized Fenris’ arm to drag him to the mirror. He hooked his arms underneath the elf’s, in a feeble and obviously not serious attempt to restrain him from touching anything. 

“Look at that… that beautiful warrior, ready to please his lover,” Anders cooed, his lips ghosting over Fenris’ ear. “Like the spirit of virility, so strong and fertile… If I were a woman, you’d give me triplets now.”

In the mirror, the image showed a flushed, tall mage with burning eyes, and a lean, dark elf adorned with winding white lines etched into his skin stretching over steely muscles. The leggings clung to him tightly, and the enhanced assets created quite an eye-catching bulge. 

Fenris shivered at the touch of lips against his ear, taking a shaky breath. “A-Anders…” he sighed softly, a happy sigh of pleasure and desire. “Are you going to fuck me?” Fenris didn't even try to hold back and smother the faint whine of impatience in his voice and the twitch in his fingers as he wanted to _grab_ Anders and pin him down, but he wanted to stick to the plan; not that he was especially good at that. 

“Of _course_ I’m going to fuck you,” Anders drawled. “It’d be a _sin_ not to…” His hands went down to caress the bulge, teasing before he slowly began to work the leggings open. “I’m going to fuck you right here, so you could watch yourself. Brace yourself against the wall.” He gently pushed Fenris forward then kneeled and all but ripped the garment off. 

“Now stay like this. I’ll be back in a moment.” He hurried back to the bed to fetch the oil and a pillow as well as to wiggle out of his own pants. He was half-hard already, and Anders gave himself a few quick tugs, picturing what he was going to do to his lover. It worked effectively to bring his member to full attention in a matter of seconds.

Fenris felt so sensitive, whether due to his new condition or the lack of sexual contact over the past… however long, he'd lost count. He did as he was told nonetheless and braced himself against the wall, blushing at how close it brought his face to the mirror. The air against his skin was warm but it started lightning storms through his body, breathing shakily at how good it felt. His balls weighed heavily, causing brief waves of pleasure to course up his length, which was now almost fully hard. He closed his mouth, lips pressing tightly together in order to stop the pleading for Anders to hurry. 

Thankfully, the mage was eager to continue, too. He dropped the pillow on the ground, then immediately began to prepare Fenris, slipping an oiled finger inside him. 

“Tell me if it’s too much, love,” Anders murmured. “I’m inclined to do it quickly, but if I hurt you, I’d never forgive myself... “

Gasping shakily, Fenris whimpered and pushed back. “That’s good,” Fenris slurred slightly, as if he were drunk. Drunk on pleasure, perhaps. “Keep going, I'll tell you if I need you to stop,” he promised and opened his eyes, not remembering when he'd closed them, watching the pleasured expressions dart across his face. 

Anders licked his lips. The mirror dutifully showed him everything, every minute change in Fenris’ expression. He was beautiful like this. Anders oiled up another finger and continued preparing the elf, running his free hand over the firm buttocks and the gracefully arching back. 

Fenris reacted beautifully, arching and moaning, muscles twitching and jumping underneath his skin with the desire to move but he kept himself still, fingers curling. “Anders…” Fenris gasped, legs spreading wider subconsciously. His cock was leaking more than normal, the fluid slipping down the length of his erection to his balls. The air kissed at the wet lines it left, making him shiver as that thin line went cold briefly. It felt good, the counterpoint to the roaring fire beneath his skin. 

“Soon, you’ll be standing in a puddle, love,” Anders chuckled and added a third finger. “You’re so loose, so ready for me.” He added more oil and continued to stretch Fenris for a little while, then patted the elf’s backside. “This shall be enough! We’re at the perfect spot too… you can watch yourself coming apart. Which is a wonderful thing, you look marvelous when pleasure overwhelms you, and it’s high time you see it.” 

He settled down on the pillow and placed his hands on the elf’s hips. “Come, love. I’ve got a comfortable seat for you…” He couldn’t help is snicker.

Fenris was so desperate now that he didn't even laugh at Anders’ bad joke. He moved to press back against Anders, rolling his hips slightly in an unconscious attempt to get the mage to hurry. 

“Anders…” Fenris breathed on a whine. “Please, I need you. Can I touch myself, please?”

“Of course you can,” Anders replied immediately. He took hold of his own erection and guided it to Fenris’ entrance. “Move back, take it, love. It’s going to feel so good.”

Doing as he was told, Fenris grabbed his cock, forcing himself to stroke it slowly so he could build up to the orgasm as Anders fucked him. “It's always so good with you,” Fenris said with a grin.

“So how about us?” The hold on Fenris’ hips grew firmer and the unmistakable power made his lyrium tingle. “There was a promise and it’s about time we fulfil it.” The spirit and the mage leaned closer, to kiss Fenris’ back. 

“Make us come and then you’ll get to mark this body, as many times as you just can.”

Fenris moaned softly at the thought and nodded, squeezing around their cock as hard as he could. “Come on, loves, fuck me. Use me to make you come,” he begged, blushing slightly at the sheer need he saw in his face.

The hands took a good, solid hold on Fenris and began to move him in a sort of rocking motion, pulling him on and off Anders’ cock. The rhythm was steady, something the elf knew they were able to hold for a while. 

They also peeked into the mirror and their smile was fond and just a touch predatory. They whispered praise, encouragement and both sweet and dirty things; it seemed Justice finally got the hang of this type of human interaction. 

After a couple of long minutes, the pace quickened; now they were chasing their fulfillment.

Fenris’ breath was ragged and his noises needy. It felt like it had been _years_ since he'd last felt any sort of pleasure but with his lovers using them to sate their own lust, Fenris wasn't sure if he'd ever felt anything better. Watching it all in the mirror, the room bright with the light of his lyrium and Justice’s presence, it made everything rather surreal but so perfect. 

It didn’t take too long for things to reach the point of no return, even though both mage and spirit tried to drag it out. Their hold turned almost painful and their motions almost violent as they slammed into Fenris, sneering and moaning. Their noises turned into small cries and finally, they came with a shout, flooding the elf’s insides with their essence. 

Fenris gasped at the feeling of them spilling inside him, eyes glued to their face as orgasm took over them. Continuing the slow roll of his hips, Fenris wanted to draw it out for them, add to their pleasure as much as he could. “Anders… Justice,” he breathed, his own erection straining for orgasm. 

Thin arms encircled his waist and chest; the movement made him slide off their cock. “Fenris, our beautiful warrior…” they breathed. “Thank you. Give us a moment… then tell us what you’d like to do to us. We long to hear.”

“I-I--” Fenris started before he took a deep shaky breath and started again. “I want to come all over your spent cock, want to see it dripping with _my_ seed so we both know exactly who you belong to, even when you're the one doing the fucking.”

“That sounds acceptable even to me.” Justice took over for a moment, smirking. “However, I might be better off lurking, and playing poor Anders like some instrument. From now on, you’re in charge. I hope you haven’t forgotten how that’s done.” He tapped his chin. “I’m fairly sure Anders wouldn’t mind it much if you put your unruly mage to his place.”

“Justice,” Fenris said, grabbing the spirit’s wrist and moving closer so he could kiss him firmly, a hand coming up to stroke Justice’s cheek. “I'll see you later.”

“You always see me,” Justice rumbled. “And you will, indeed.” 

There was the usual subtle shift and Anders leaned closer for a kiss. “As far as I know him, he’ll be lurking under my skin, driving me mad with pleasure. Now, however… We have you prepared, I’ve had my orgasm and you know… it’s been a while since you last… spanked me.”

Fenris grinned, still pressed as close to Anders as he had been to Justice. “Oh? Do you think you've been good enough to _ask_ for something?” Fenris asked. “Luckily for you, I want to. Get on your hands and knees on the bed for me.”

“Yes, master,” Anders nodded obediently, though his wide grin lessened the effect somewhat. Regardless, he walked to the bed and got on all fours just like requested. His eyes were glowing with desire, skin flushed from both the previous exertion and the anticipation. He stared at Fenris hungrily, admiring his lover’s beauty and the result of his own handiwork both.

Fenris climbed onto the bed and ran his hands appreciatively over Anders’ skin, thumbs dipping between his cheeks to brush against his entrance briefly. 

“You are beautiful, do you know that? Absolutely gorgeous,” Fenris breathed, before he brought his hand back quickly and slapped Anders’ ass hard without warning. 

“Ow!” Anders jumped and wiggled his backside. “I know that…” His smile was cheeky enough to give one the doubt that he’ll be obedient though his words were full of honey. “If I weren’t beautiful, you wouldn’t be so fond of me. You like me like this and I like myself, too.” He stretched, like a cat. “All pretty for my pretty master.”

Fenris hummed in appreciation with a soft chuckle. “You are, aren't you? So perfect for me, and well-behaved. I think you deserve exactly what you want.”

Moving, Fenris sat down, careful of his balls, running a hand over Anders’ back. “Come on, kitten, come lie across my lap and I'll spank you.”

Anders mewled happily and turned around, to drape himself over Fenris’ thighs. He made sure to both have his ass perked and his fingers curling into the sheets, then he glanced up at his lover expectantly. 

Fenris rubbed promisingly over Anders’ ass as he leaned down and pressed a kiss between the mage’s shoulder blades. He punctuated the softness with a hard slap without warning, and then another on the other cheek just a second later. 

Anders hissed and flinched, pulling his shoulders up, but aside the redness blossoming on his buttocks, other parts of him began to flush as well, oddly enough making his many freckles and birthmarks stand out even more. 

After a few more slaps, he began to wiggle subtly, moaning from the pain, but he certainly made no real attempt to get away.

“Do you like that, kitten? I've got you trapped here, and I could do anything I wanted with you,” Fenris purred, emphasising his point by pressing one of his hands to between Anders’ shoulder blades and holding him down while spanking him again. “ _Anything_ I wanted. I could shove my fingers in this tight little hole of yours.” He moved the hand on Anders’ ass to tease over his entrance, before pulling back to slap him again. 

“That… doesn’t sound much. I can take it,” Anders sounded almost bored. “My previous masters trained me harder, so go ahead… I’ll try not to fall asleep.” He completed the goading with a yawn. 

Fenris grinned, safe in the knowledge that Anders couldn't see it. The hand between the mage’s shoulder blades moved up into his hair, where it grabbed and pulled hard, at the same time as Fenris landed a hard slap on Anders’ ass. “Don't be facetious, mage. Perhaps I'll just fuck you without getting you ready, see what quips you can come up with then.”

“You wouldn’t do that!” Anders protested, incredulous. “You’re way too nice for that. You know well what your kitty needs… Right now, it’d be a good hard fuck. And you marking him… After all, how should I know who I belong to if I’m not marked properly? I might just stray off with Master Hawke.”

“I don't think I could fuck you and then come all over your pretty cock,” Fenris admitted. “I think I'll get one of our nice big toys and play with you until you're begging for me to mark you up. Would you like that, kitten? Maybe I'll get your tail and work you over with it. Tell me what you want, little one… You know I can give it to you better than Hawke can.”

Anders turned on his back with a pleased grin, showing off his half-hard cock. “Damn right you can… You’re the best master a kitty can have, aren’t you? The tail sounds great. I look so pretty with it, don’t I?” He stretched lazily. “Please fuck me with a nice big toy then and I’ll meow and purr, just the way you like it. You love to hear me beg, don’t you? Well make me beg.” He arched his back a little, pushing his stomach up as if for scratches. It was still flat, but not hollow, not like it had been once. 

Fenris leaned down and nipped at the soft treasure trail between Anders’ hips with a grin. “Good boy,” he said as he stood and moved to their drawer of toys, getting out a thick dildo and the tail plug, grabbing the oil on his way back. 

Settling between Anders’ thighs, Fenris leaned down to kiss him gently, lifting a hand to stroke his cheek before he sat back again, letting his fingertips tease over Anders’ skin, thumbs circling his nipples slowly, playing with the rings before moving on. Each time he moved further and further down, he returned to the mage’s nipples, teasing and winding him up until he was ready to ask for more. 

“Good boy, so good for me, aren't you? So sweet and lovely. All those little noises you make. It makes me just want to lie down and stroke you,” Fenris cooed affectionately, running his thumb up the underside of Anders’ cock. 

“I could come from that, too,” Anders replied dreamily. “Justice would make me do it twice. But I prefer something in my ass… you know what a whore I am for cock.” He stretched a little. “Whether you spank me or caress me, I love it. This was so nice, too. Please continue.”

Chuckling softly, Fenris did as Anders asked, teasing and pinching gently at the mage’s nipples, moving further and further down to his cock and thighs, smoothing his hands over the white pale skin before he pulled away and coated his fingers in oil. He brushed his fingertips against Anders’ entrance, circling it round before he eased one in. 

Anders’ eyes fluttered shut and he let out a tiny moan. He slowly pulled his legs up further but suddenly he stopped and his eyes snapped open with a panicked look. It only lasted for a moment, fortunately; his face lit up with understanding and he grinned.

“Justice says he wouldn’t mind playing with me, is that alright? He’s going to take control over my body.”

“Of course,” Fenris grinned, leaning up to kiss him firmly. “Don't let him make you come. I'll be very upset if you do.”

Fenris crooked his finger to stroke lightly over Anders’ prostate before he circled his finger round to stretch him enough to add a second one. 

At first, it didn’t seem like anything changed, though Anders’ hands began roaming all over his own body, seeking out all his good spots. The mage looked beautiful during it; his eyes became glazed with pleasure, his was biting his lower lip and panted, moaning when his fingers reached another sensitive area.

“Oh shit,” he breathed. “I was not expecting this.”

“Kaffas,” Fenris whispered, having to pause what he was doing for a moment to just appreciate the sight of Justice playing Anders’ body better than Fenris ever could. “You look so beautiful. Justice is so good to you, isn't he, pet? You make the most beautiful noises…”

“I’ll make them for you, too, once we get there,” Anders laughed. “Make sure you get there fast. In the meantime - enjoy the show.” His hands began to move, slow and purposeful, touching everywhere, every inch of skin. His breathing sped up and his cock twitched , leaking precome but never crossing the line. It seemed that Justice was in a playful mood, because he guided Anders’ hands to his stomach, where his essence was pooling in a slight dip, then made him lick the wetness from his fingers. Anders did it without protesting.

Fenris made a soft noise of desire and sped up his preparation of Anders, though he never went too far too fast. When he had Anders stretched enough - but just about so he would still feel the ache of it - Fenris slicked up the thick toy and slowly pushed it into Anders, feeding it into his body slowly. “Look at how well you take it. Imagine if it was Justice’s cock. The pair of us could trap you between us, a cock in both ends. Maybe then you'd finally be satisfied, hm?”

“Mmaybe,” Anders purred with delight, his body arching up. “Oh shit- H-has this thing always been this big? Maker, it’s splitting me in half and I love it…!” His whining was a delight to hear. “Sweet Andraste, I can-” he stared at himself with eyes blazing with lust - the massive toy made his stomach bulge slightly. Anders placed a hand on it, and licked his lips. 

“Now this is nice… Not as nice as a real one, but… I’d imagine Justice would be about this size… Aww, we could have so much fun.” He shot a smoldering glance to Fenris. “And now, my master-love? What do you want me to do? Should I stay, or sit up or do you want to lead me down to the market on a leash…?”

Fenris chuckled, stroking his fingers along Anders’ jaw. “You'd like that, wouldn't you? This big thick toy stretching you open while you crawled through the market… I wouldn't let anyone touch, though, that's just for me. Now though? Now I'm going to spank you again.” 

A hard slap right over the toy made it jerk into Anders’ body and Fenris grinned, doing it again as he settled closer and took his own cock in hand, stroking steadily as he worked the toy inside Anders. 

The sounds it earned him were downright sinful. Anders cried out with every slap and his body jerked, he was gasping and panting, his own cock bobbing from his movements, flushed with blood. 

“Oh Maker- Aah! Oh master, please, please fuck me hard! I want it! Aah! Ow- F-feels so good!”

“Venhedis, you look so good,” Fenris sighed, taking hold of the dildo and angling it so that it hit Anders’ prostate when he pushed it in hard. “Maker… I'm going to come all over this pretty cock of yours and play with you like this until you come too, mix our seed together…”

Fenris tightened his grip on the toy and began to fuck Anders with it in earnest, speeding up the hand on his own cock until he was coming with a shout, all over Anders’ penis and lower belly. It felt like it would never end, wave after wave of come spurting out of him. It was thinner than usual but there was so _much_ that Fenris moaned at the sight of it. 

Anders had trouble concentrating, but he tried, pupils blown and mouth hanging open, the most sinfully lusty moans escaping him. The sight - or possibly Justice’s good influence - might have helped, because Fenris hasn’t even finished coming when Anders followed suit with a sharp yell, back arching beautifully. His seed mingled with Fenris’, thicker and not as much, but there was still a lot, pooling over his thin frame here and there as well as rolling down his sides. Even his chest wasn’t spared.

Fenris worked Anders through the orgasm carefully, making sure to back off before he became too sensitive, pulling the toy out and slipping the tail plug into place instead with a grin. “Fuck,” Fenris laughed, lying down beside Anders with a very satisfied grin. He kissed the mage’s shoulder, licking a little of their seed off his skin before he lifted his fingers and dragged them lazily through the mess. “Maker, you're so filthy. Dirty and depraved,” the elf added with a grin, love and happiness in his eyes. 

“Th-thank you, master…” Anders lifted his arms above his head, the picture of surrender. His eyes were still a little glazed, he was panting and whimpering, and he arched up for a kiss. Once he got it, he licked his lips and tugged Fenris a little closer. 

“Rub it into my skin,” he whispered into the elf’s ears. “Mark me properly as yours.”

Fenris hummed in appreciation for the idea and did so, mixing it all together and rubbing it over Anders’ belly and chest. When he was done, Anders was covered and Fenris’ hand was practically dripping. He lifted it and held it out to Anders to lick clean. 

“Clean me all up, little one, clean your master with your tongue,” Fenris breathed, a soft thrum of arousal in him at the sight of his lover so covered and filthy, though there was no way he'd be able to get hard again so soon. 

With a hum, Anders opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out, running the tip over Fenris’ wet fingers. He deliberately put on a show, working slowly, curling his tongue around the calloused digits. It was a thorough job indeed; Anders ended up suckling on Fenris’ fingers, eyes almost closed, his tongue pressed against the tip.

“Was I a good little kitty?”

“You were perfect for me,” Fenris sighed, slightly breathless in amazement. “Maker, you're so perfect. My kitten, my amatus.” He pulled his fingers back to leaned closer to kiss him again, tugging on the tail slightly to remind Anders it was there. 

“Good,” Anders purred. “You’ll have to scrub me down later, because I’m going to reek and I don’t want to be a stinky kitty… for too long. However, as long as my dear master has more for me, I’ll take it.”

Fenris chuckled and pulled Anders into his lap with a grin. He wrapped a hand around the back of Anders’ neck and pulled him down for a kiss. “Of course I do, kitten. There's always more for _you_.”


	19. Burning Bridges

The lantern was dark outside but the light of a single candle still seeped into the corridors of Darktown. The healer had long given up on this place; it didn’t feel like home. Home was elsewhere.

With a sigh, Anders placed another item into his pack. He never had much in means of personal possessions and his time with the Wardens taught him to not get attached, even if he was free to pick things up. He was presently going through the box of trinkets he accumulated while being the healer of the poorest of Kirkwall. He kept everything in a box, out of sight so he won’t grow too fond of any of the knickknacks. Now he was sorting them with a cool head; whatever valuable or useful things there were, they went to the pack, to be left… somewhere. Maybe under pillows, at doorsteps, on bedside tables.

He wasn’t going to need any of these much longer. 

The melancholy settled on his shoulders like a bag of bricks. He wasn’t afraid of the future; he just felt guilty to cause pain. He didn’t want to, he really didn’t, but there was no other way. All options were exhausted. His sole comfort was the warm pulse in his chest, Justice snuggling up against him like a cat, trying to soothe. It almost worked. 

Anders sighed and turned the next trinket around in his hands. Some sort of jewelry; maybe Orana will like it. He placed it into the pack and reached for another item. 

The door opened behind him, silently as it had been freshly oiled to stop the annoying squeak it previously had. It closed just as noiselessly. Somebody entered on quiet feet; the sound could easily be mistaken for the usual noises of the undercity. 

There was a sudden hand in Anders’ hair and on the back of his robes, pulling him up and away from his packing sharply, dragging him to his feet and against the stranger’s body. 

“What do we have here? A little mageling all alone with no Templars to watch over him?” the stranger asked quietly. His voice was deep but his body was lean, short. There was no escaping the tight grip he had on Anders’ hair, not unless he wished to lose almost all of it. 

He struggled though, with an undignified yelp. “W-what are you talking about? I didn’t do anything…!” Anders tried to grab his captor’s wrist, to ease the pain. “Let me go! What do you want? Who are you even?”

His heart was hammering in his chest. Who was this, a mercenary? Someone trained to deal with apostates? He sure had a firm grip! Anders hissed. “Release me…!”

“Why should I? I could drag you kicking and screaming to the Gallows, fetch a nice sum for turning over the healer of Darktown,” the stranger chuckled, the sound dark and sinister. “You may not have done anything yet, but you're a mage. Mages always do.” 

The stranger used his grip on Anders to bodily move him to the desk, pushing the mage down against the wood. 

“I could always take you as my own. Which would you prefer, little mageling,” the man purred threateningly, “your freedom and my visits, or the rest of your existence in the Gallows. If they even let you live that long.”

“I don’t even know why do you think that I’m a mage,” Anders growled, still squirming; damn, this guy was strong. “That is quite an accusation! Can’t a refugee get a breather in this city? You’ve got the wrong guy!”

He reached insides his reserves for power; if the stranger got careless, Anders was prepared to slam something nasty into his face. 

“The healer used to be here, but he’s long gone!”

“Oh, I know you're a mage. I can smell the magic on you, taste it on my tongue…” The stranger punctuated his point by licking Anders’ neck slightly. “I've watched you. I know who you are, healer…”

The stranger’s smooth hands ran over Anders’ rear, squeezing his cheeks and playing over the leather of his trousers. 

“I suggest you keep those hands to yourself if you don’t want them bitten off,” Anders growled. Okay, so strategy one failed, time to gor for strategy two. Especially because that hand felt rather offensive. 

“Listen… we might be able to barter. If it’s money that you want, I can help with that. I’m not sure they’d pay for my head, the templars might get offended, the Chantry could claim it’s your duty as a faithful Andrastian, whatever. I can offer you a nice sum.” He would never live it down, but both Hawke and Varric would help him if he needed it, wouldn’t they? And besides, they’d help eliminating this guy, too. 

“I'm not after your money, healer,” the stranger chuckled softly. The hand in Anders’ hair disappeared, though it wrapped around both of Anders’ wrists easily instead, keeping them pinned against the small of his back. “You're so pretty, healer. Such a pretty little mage… If you won't offer what I want then I'll just take it.”

With that, the man grabbed Anders’ trousers and pulled them down with his smalls, baring his rear. The stranger hummed happily, letting his hand play over the pale skin. “So pretty.”

Anders yelped, struggling against the hold, but the grip was like a vice. He couldn’t conjure up a spell like this! His heart began to hammer in his chest. He was able to avoid this while in the Circle… He was not about to fall victim to anyone now!

He called for Justice’s aid and his skin flared up with spiritfire-

Only to snuff out with a hiss and a wave of pain. Anders gasped, eyes wide. Suddenly, an old memory came back to him: legends told in dark dorm rooms back at Kinloch, the whispered horrors about every mage’s worst nightmare: the Mage Hunters.

They said there weren’t many of them. The tales never told how they worked, aside that while not being Templars themselves, they had the same abilities and some more. They could nullify any spell, they were highly trained killers, strong, agile and loyal to the Chantry.

But a man’s loyalty sways sometimes. Apparently, this one decided to place his holy duty aside. 

Anders began to tremble. Why was this happening right now, he wanted to leave, he only needed several hours… Then he would’ve been gone, anyway but this- nightmare caught up with him. And he was powerless to stop it. Without his magic, what did he have?

“Please-” he gasped, still struggling, but with a weakening resolve. “Please don’t- I’ll- I’ll do as you say, please…”

Maybe he’ll still have a chance to just run for his life.

“That’s it, good boy...” the man cooed softly. “That’s it...” The grip on Anders’ wrists became gentler but didn’t loosen. “See how nice I can be when you do as you’re told? You can be good for me, can’t you, little mage?” 

The stranger grinned, Anders could feel it against his shoulder as fingers trailed closer towards the crease of his rear, blunt nails scraping over the mage’s soft skin. After a few long, agonizing moments, those questing fingers brushed against his entrance. 

“If you ask nicely, I might even use oil. I bet I wouldn’t even need to prepare you, slut that you are. I could just push right on in...” he breathed against Anders’ ear, nipping roughly at the shell of it. “Are you going to ask, little mage, or are you going to suffer? I bet you beg so prettily…”

Anders squeezed his eyes shut. He hated himself for doing this, but he was a survivor first and foremost. He had to get out of this alive. There was still something he had to do. 

“Please…” he breathed. “Please let me- I… I can make it good for you, just- don’t hurt me.”

“Can you now? And how are you going to make it good for me?” the stranger asked with a low, threatening chuckle, though with curiosity in his voice. “What are you going to do to make it worth my time instead of just taking you now?”

“I c-can suck you off,” Anders offered. “And I can- ride you.” He was not getting out of this, right? He must do something before he could try to bolt. So Anders attempted to at least twist the situation to his merit. That didn’t make it more pleasant, but at least he wasn’t going to get thoroughly violated. 

“If you don’t give me out… you can come back. I’ll- I’ll pay for my life- like this.”

“You giving me your word about that, mage?” the man asked, though he seemed to be considering it. “I can bind your magic inside you, little mage, so that you can’t use it until I release it. If you so much as turn against your word, I will bind you and hand you over to the Templars. Do you understand, boy?” 

Anders suspected he was at least several years older, but he refrained from pointing that out. He nodded eagerly. 

“I don’t have anywhere to go, so- I know that you’ll find me. I’ll do as you ask. What would you like me to do?” Damn it, Maker damn it, there was no way out if this. Anders swallowed thickly. There was no escaping Fate, was there? He should have known he wasn’t going to be fortunate forever. 

“I like the idea of fucking your throat, making you take it,” the man chuckled, nipping at Anders’ ear again. “Turn around and get on your knees, little mageling. Get on your knees and get my cock out, but if you misbehave...” The threat was left open-ended, letting Anders fill in all the blanks. The grip on Anders’ wrists disappeared, but those hands remained close, ready to grab him in case he decided to push his luck or try and escape. 

Anders rolled his shoulders and obediently slipped to the floor, trying to tug his pants back up. There was a slim chance of escaping, but if he wanted to try it, he would've liked to try without tripping on his own trousers. These weren’t even his usual clothes… A simple tunic, a new pair of pants, things his friends got him. Oh, how he missed his feathered coat right now. 

He reached for the other, parting the long cloak to get to the fastenings of the pants underneath. Maybe a bite would distract the guy long enough…

“Leave your trousers down, mage, I didn't tell you to pull them up, did I?” the man growled, “Misbehave again and I'll just bend you over, understand? Now, if you're even so much as _thinking_ about biting me…”

The stranger gripped Anders’ jaw tightly, forcing him to open his mouth. With the mage’s mouth open, he pushed two fingers inside, pressing his tongue down and pulling his lower jaw down a little more. 

The shame it brought burned. Anders had to fight to not wrench his head free from the painful grip or lot to chomp off the offending fingers. There were only a few times before when he felt this humiliated and he suspected that it was going to get worse. 

He didn’t look up, letting the Hunter do as he pleased while he freed the already hardening cock from its confines. Anders curled his fingers around it and tugged. The sooner he’ll make the guy come, the sooner he’ll leave.

The man hummed softly, rolling his hips into Anders’ grip. “That's it… Like that. Now, I'm going to release your mouth and you're going to suck me. You won't misbehave. Nod to tell me you understand,” he said, voice becoming slightly breathy. 

Since there was no other option available, Anders nodded. When the Hunter pulled his fingers away, Anders leaned closer and guided the half-hard cock into his mouth. He could do this. He has always been a good little cocksucker, wasn’t he? He teased the tip of his tongue along the slit, swirled it around the head and slowly closed his lips around the firm flesh. At least it didn't taste or smell bad, but he still felt a little sick. He closed his eyes and tried to think of someone else. 

The Hunter threaded his fingers through Anders’ hair, thrusting shallowly into his mouth. He stayed quiet except for the low breaths and quiet moans, gripping Anders’ head still as he let the mage suck his cock. After a while, when his cock was hard and wet with saliva, he pulled his erection away and dragged Anders to his feet, spinning him around and pinning him to the desk again. Positioning himself at Anders’ entrance, the man thrust in hard, not caring about the mage’s comfort or pain. 

And there was pain. Anders cried out and attempted to push himself up. “W-wait- Stop!” He gritted his teeth. “You promised- Maker damn it, we had a _deal_!” The rage that flowed through him was familiar, comforting in a sense. 

“Damn you and your cursed kind! You take everything from us- And then you want to take even more! Let me go! I’d rather fight!”

The hunter laughed, the sound coming from deep in his throat as he made slow, hard thrusts. “I never promised anything, little mage. You said you'd make it good for me. I don't want to fight you, mage, I want to use you.”

Gripping Anders’ hair, the man picked up his pace, fucking him and using him hard, pistoning his hips against Anders’. There wasn't enough oil to make it slide but the pull of the dryness of it added only more pleasure. _His_ pleasure. 

Anders’ nails scratched the table’s roughened surface. The pain was persistent, burning, just like the shame. He let himself be deceived by - essentially - a templar, bowed to a Chantry dog, something he vow never to do ever again… He had his reasons, yes, but this was getting too far. He couldn’t take it. He just couldn’t. 

The knife he always carried was still strapped to his waist, and while Anders preferred to solve problems with magic, brute force seemed like a better option, now. He snatched the weapon from its sheath and stabbed back, intent on burying the blade into the Hunter’s flesh. 

The man managed to see through the haze of his pleasure just in time to grab Anders’ wrist, banging it against the table to make him drop it before it could sink into his skin. He wasn't fast enough to stop it from slicing across the surface but he growled as he forced the knife to clatter from Anders’ hand to the floor as he growled in anger. 

“You little _shit_ ,” the Hunter growled, pulling him upright to grab his wrists and hold them behind his back as his other hand wrapped around Anders’ throat, just enough to make breathing a drag. 

“Curse you…!” Anders choked. “You Chantry dog...! Let me go and let’s fight…!” He could only gasp; the Hunter’s hold was secure. Anders squirmed but to no avail.

Maybe it wasn’t a smart move. Maybe it’ll all turn to the worse. But he couldn’t care, not any longer.

The man used his grip around Anders’ throat and hands to hold him close and still, fucking into him hard and fast with no care for any pain Anders’ might feel. His wrists would be bruised from the grip on them, and the Hunter only tightened his grip further. 

It wasn't long, not really, before the stranger’s thrusts were faltering, stuttering before they stopped as he grunted, filling Anders with his seed. 

After a few long moments, the Hunter drew back and squeezed Anders’ throat ever so slightly before he let go and turned to leave. 

Anders gasped and let himself slide to the floor in a graceless heap. His backside ached, there were probably fingermarks on his throat but that was not why the tears started rolling down on his face. He curled up, whimpering when his throbbing cock brushed against his thigh.

“Anders…” Justice’s voice wavered. “Anders, my beloved mortal.” 

“I-is he g-gone…?” Anders questioned.

“I believe so.” The spirit’s soft pulses caressed his host’s insides. “Why do you do this to yourself? This is real sorrow.”

“It feels just,” Anders breathed. “Please Justice… help me out.” He gasped when he felt lips enveloping his erection; they felt so real. “Oh Justice, Justice…!”

He didn’t restrain his voice, and his tears kept flowing as he writhed on the ground. After the abuse, the pleasure Justice was giving him felt soothing; it eased the pain of both his body and heart. It didn’t last long after his orgasm, though. When his cock softened, Anders pulled himself up, and curled up against a wall, his tears flowing freely again. 

“I don’t understand,” Justice murmured, curling ghost-arms around Anders’ shoulders. “You always enjoyed these activities. Fenris did his part well. You’re still so distressed.”

“I’m not distressed...” Anders wept. “I’m terrified. I’m going to betray him, I’m going to betray all of them, Hawke and Varric… And I’m going to die. Meredith will murder me. Please Justice… leave me! Go back to the Fade and be safe…!”

“Purge the memories of you, and of Fenris? Forget about everything we endured?” Justice sighed. “I’m afraid, that’s not an option anymore. I don’t want to leave. If your death means my demise… I’d rather perish with you than to live alone. I have changed, and I cannot go back to what I was. Let us not dwell on that. I’ll be with you all through this.”

“Thank you,” Anders whispered. He truly appreciated the gesture, but it did little to ease the pain. He have set terrible things in motion and there was no turning back.The Chantry was going to fall, and even if he survived that… He was going to be ten times as wanted, despised, and fiercely loathed by all. Including his friends. 

Including Fenris.

That pained Anders the most, and he wept, out of guilt, pain and regret. He was going to betray the person he loved most.

He deserved nothing more than what he got tonight.


	20. Aftermath

The sky was still lit with the fires; ash still gently rained on Kirkwall. The echoes of distant cries drifted on the wind.

Anders didn’t dare to turn. He stood in front of the ruins of the Chantry, and stared at the ground. He was expecting many things: shouting, a swift death, but the silence was the worst of all. Justice did his best to comfort him, but to little avail. The pride of having done the right thing was smothered by pain and shame.

He knew there was no other way, that this was the act that needed to be done, but sacrificing everything for freedom, for the good cause also meant that he was losing his friends.

He could hear the clatter of armor and Sebastian’s pained cry.

“Elthina- No, no!” Anders could very well picture the anguished prince, mourning his losses.

“Maker, why-” The angry snarl finally made him turn only to see Hawke holding Sebastian back. “Please. Please Seb-”

“You!” the prince snarled, a finger jabbing at Anders. “Murderer! You will pay for this- ”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Anders said quietly. “I truly am. But there was no other way.”

Oddly enough, the prince didn’t really fight with Hawke. The tears still streamed down his face, his teeth bared, but he wasn’t actively trying to maul Anders. “You should have tried. There’s always another way! This wasn’t needed! You went too far, mage!”

“I did what I believed to be necessary to break the circle,” Anders murmured. “I know what she meant to you. But you know what she meant to me.”

Sebastian straightened and shook Hawke’s arms off. “I know. And Maker sees my soul, I’ve had enough of revenge.” He looked up the sky then raised his hand and lowered his head. “Blessed be the souls of the faithful who ascend to your right hand,” he murmured. He wiped his tears off and stared at Anders coldly. “ I will not seek you out. I’ll just let you live with this burden of murdering innocents. Try to stay out of my sight. May the Maker have mercy on you.” He turned and walked off, shoulders squared. He never looked back. 

“That… went better than expected,” Varric noted.

“Did it?” Fenris asked, his voice monotone and unfeeling. 

“Fenris, did you know about this?” Hawke asked, anger and frustration simmering in his voice, torn between hugging Anders and shaking some sense into him. 

“No. I didn't,” Fenris said. 

Hawke sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Will you-- Deal with him, while I deal with this shit?” Hawke asked when he saw Orsino and Meredith running up. 

Fenris nodded tersely and approached Anders. He was silent for a few moments, face blank of emotion. 

“Why?” he asked eventually, voice full of betrayal. 

“Because it needed to be done.” Anders whispered. “And you’d have stopped me. You all would’ve tried to stop me. I couldn’t afford that. Neither did I want to drag you into this.” His voice broke. “Especially not you. I’ll be executed for this but the blame is on me, no-one else.” He turned away. “I’m sorry.”

Behind them, the heated conversation quickly escalated into an all-out war. 

“I hereby invoke the Right of Annulment!” Meredith shouted. “Every mage in the Circle is to be executed!”

Anders twirled around with a sharp gasp, his body flaring up blue. “You have no right to do that!”

“The Circle wasn’t even part of this!” Orsino agreed, though he was glaring daggers at Anders. 

“It doesn’t matter!” Meredith was not to be swayed. “As the protector of Kirkwall, I have to do this! The people will demand blood.” She fixed her cold stare on Hawke. “You must choose, Champion. Side with the mages… Or join us in this fight!”

“Look what you’ve done…!” Orsino hissed, more desperate than angry. “You have doomed us all! What has gotten into you…?”

“I removed the chance for compromise…” Anders said quietly. “Because there was no compromise. A quick death now or a slow one later… what does it matter? She would’ve gotten us in the end. As for myself… I’d rather die on my feet.”

Orsino turned to Hawke. “Champion, you have to help us! The mages will be slaughtered!”

“Come on, gather the mages,” Hawke growled as he drew one of his daggers, wrapping his fingers round it tightly. “We all knew this day was coming. Maybe just not in so explosive a form. Fenris, I-- I can't ask you to side with us but--”

“Shut up, Hawke,” Fenris snapped, glaring at the Champion with fire in his eyes as his lyrium crackled, unlit but sparking beneath his skin. “Do you think I would leave your side after everything? After _this_? You would have to drive me away.”

Hawke nodded with a grateful smile and turned to face Meredith. “You saw what I did to the Arishok, Knight-Commander. Face us at your peril.”

Meredith hissed, seething as more of the Templars gathered behind her. “You stand with them and you will die with them, _Champion_. No one can stand against the blade of the Maker.” 

As Hawke argued with Meredith, Fenris wrapped his hand around Anders’ upper arm, pulling the mage closer to whisper in his ear. 

“I will not abandon you,” Fenris said. “I would have stopped you, but we could have found a better way. No one will kill you but me, and I find myself inclined to keep you alive. Was this you, or Justice?”

“Which part?” Anders asked back. “We did this _together_. No matter what Meredith thinks, it wasn’t even magic. I used _gaatlok_. And I’m not starting a debate on how Elthina was inclined to keep this injustice going on forever… I’ve spent eight years trying to explain it to her. She was way too comfortable in her seat to bother.”

He probably would’ve went on, but Meredith’s cry cut him off. 

“Kill them all!” she seethed and marched off, leaving her men behind.

“Go!” Orsino snapped at his mages. “To the Gallows before it’s too late!” He joined them and Hawke’s party was left with the menacingly advancing templars.

“I suggest we suspend all debates for a while?” Varric lifted Bianca, carefully inching back. “We’ve got a more immediate problem here…!”

Fenris nodded and drew his sword, holding it at his side as he pulled Anders closer. He looked torn as he glanced down at Anders’ lips but only rested their foreheads together briefly before he moved away. “We will discuss this later, mage,” Fenris said. 

Hawke looked between the group of them and nodded to himself. “Get everything you need and meet me at the port as soon as you can. Fenris, stay with Anders please. We’ll deal with him later,” Hawke said, eyes flicking briefly to the mage at the elf’s side. 

“I’m not leaving,” Anders pulled himself up straight and let Justice settle beside him. “We will not allow any harm to befall on those we hold dear. The Gallows mages need help and we shall provide it - if you let us, Champion.”

“Well.” Hawke mulled that over while he felled the first attacking templar. “Okay. Fine. It’s your responsibility… And I’m making you personally responsible for my sister, because we’re getting her out.”

“A task we shall take upon us with honor,” Anders and Justice nodded. “Let us not waste time.”

The battle didn’t last long; the templars were no match for the enraged Team Hawke. Soon the former Chantry's courtyard was littered with corpses.

“This might just tarnish your reputation a little,” Varric glanced at Hawke, poking a dead body with his foot. “But, well. I can see why you’re upset. We need to get Bethany out of the Gallows, before Meredith lays waste on it.”

“Let me join, Hawke,” Merrill pleaded. “I’d like to help.” 

“You- do?” Hawke tilted his head to the side. “You never really got involved in my business… And I thought you were at odds with humans?”

“It is not my fight,” Merrill nodded, rolling her eyes, “but the templars and the Chantry did nothing but hound us elves. If I can pay back, I’m up to it. Besides, you need all the help you can get.” 

Hawke smirked and Anders stepped closer. 

“Thank you, Merrill.”

“I’m not doing this for you.”

“Still.”

Fenris flicked blood off his gauntlet, nose scrunching up as he dropped the heart in his hand. These Templars were the cannon fodder, he was sure. Meredith kept the best fighters for herself. He looked down at the man he had killed, recognising him from their few jobs with the Order. Fenris heard the others talking and sheathed his sword. 

“We should move on quickly before we run out of time,” he said, looking at Merrill. 

“The elf’s right,” Varric said, letting his arms relax a little. “What's the plan?”

Hawke considered for a moment and looked around at everybody. “Anybody who doesn't want to come with us, leave now before it's too late. We won't be upset or judge you.” Nobody moved, Isabela shifting slightly but remaining where she was. “Right. If we go in with two teams, we can split up and sweep through the Gallows much faster.”

“If we can keep the templars occupied, I might be able to get some mages out,” Anders pondered. “I’ve done it before. Now it should be easier, with all the enemy gathered up front.”

“That’s where most of us will be needed,” Varric pondered. 

Hawke mulled it over. “You and Fenris do that,” He pointed at Anders. “See to it that people get out safely, including my sister. The rest of us will confront Meredith. The bulk of the mages will be there, too.”

“From what I’ve gathered, sweet Bethany will found her way to your side, love,” Isabela chuckled. “She’s that type of girl. But don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on her while the lovebirds are doing the rescue.” 

Hawke nodded and took a deep breath, tightening the grip he had on his daggers. “Right. If we’re all ready then let's go. Anders, I'm guessing you have a back way in. Take Fenris and Isabela. Bela, when you have Bethy, bring her to us. I'd rather have her join in when I know about it than have her barging in and messing up everything.”

Fenris sheathed his sword and wiped his hands on his leggings, getting rid of as much of the blood and gore as he could. He wanted a bath. He wanted to rewind to that morning and have a lazy bath with Anders, somehow get the mage to share his plan, appeal to Justice. It wouldn't work though, he knew that. 

“I'm ready,” the elf said firmly, pushing the thoughts from his mind. 

***

They’ve briefly gathered at the Hawke estate afterwards, to catch their breaths and Anders used the time to heal everyone who needed it. The fight ended with mixed results: Meredith was dead, the templars weakened, but Orsino sacrificed himself to buy more time for his mages, and the Circle essentially fell. 

It also seemed to be a good idea, to disappear for a while. Kirkwall was in chaos; long-suppressed feelings surfaced and Aveline and her guards had their hands full keeping it at bay.

Bethany was safe and sound, frantically packing somewhere inside, trying to be the responsible one. The rest of the team didn’t have much to pack up; the Alienage was relatively safe and Isabela carried her wealth and arsenal on herself. Varric’s valuables were safely stored in banking houses. 

“Do you two have anything left at the mansion?” the dwarf asked Fenris and Anders. “You might want to pick it up. The underground routes will get you there and back swiftly. I’m pretty sure you’d like to go with Hawke, at least for a while.” 

“I--” Fenris started before faltering. Did he want to go with Hawke? “Maybe to the coast. After that… I don't know. Anders and I need to talk. We will return with our decisions.” Fenris took care to mention their decisions separately; should Anders wish to part from his side then he wouldn't force the mage to stay. 

Fenris glanced at Anders briefly before he turned and headed for the cellar, where they'd built an underground tunnel between their mansions. He walked slowly in case Anders followed.

He did; his pack was in the mansion after all. He wasn’t entirely sure why he bothered with it before heading for the Chantry; he planned on dying out there on the courtyard but- it didn’t happen. It actually baffled him. Hawke was concerned, supportive, almost fussing over him. Isabela hugged him and called him brave, Varric patted his back, making a comment along the lines of ‘readers loving explosions’. Merrill didn’t even really glance at him, but they never were on the best terms. 

That left Fenris. It hurt to see him like this; Anders didn’t count on this, either. 

“I suppose you could stay, if you wanted…” he spoke up. “Or go anywhere, really. Uproot slavers, or just be a mercenary… There are a lot of opportunities for someone with your skills in the Marches.”

“And leave you to put others at risk?” Fenris snapped, sighing softly after a moment. “No. You need someone to watch you. I'm happy for that to be me. I… I wish you would have trusted me, but what's done is done. We cannot turn back time. I don't want to leave you. If you wish to go with Hawke, then we will go with Hawke. If not, then we won't.”

The pain in Fenris’ voice wasn't anything to do with the death of the Grand Cleric or the citizens, or the destruction of the Chantry. It was the loss of trust that had once existed between them. He felt the tentative tethers of love still clinging by a thread. 

“You- don’t want to leave me…?” Anders’ voice trembled. “Well, I- I have some mages to care for but- why would you come with me to protect them?” He looked away, shaking his head with a painful expression. “I told you this will end like this. I knew that one day, you’ll lose my faith in me… I’m only good for hurting others.” He shuddered when he felt Justice”s desperate ghost-embrace. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have allowed us to become- more, but… I has so happy that I found someone who loved me.” His voice broke. “I’m so sorry.”

Fenris sighed, turning slightly to grasp Anders’ wrist and gripping his jaw to force the mage to look at him. “It's too late for sorry. Now shut up and let's get our stuff and save those mages so we can get out of here before the Templar Order comes down on us like a ton of bricks. I'm not leaving. I love you,” Fenris said, more affection and pain in his voice than he'd wanted. “I refuse to abandon you now.”

“You are a fucking idiot,” Anders whispered. “But thank you. Thank you so much. I love you, Fenris, I really do.” He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “Let’s hurry, yes.”

They both disappeared in the darkness of the corridors. 

***

Years later, Varric told a lot of half-truths to a Seeker who came into Kirkwall in pursuit of the fabled Champion. He had a good inkling where Anders and Fenris headed. Anders sought out the mages he personally rescued from the Gallows and marched off with them, hopefully leading them into a better life. Most of them had no idea what life was outside the Circle; Anders taught them all he knew, all the things he once learned from the Warden-Commander and his fellow Wardens. 

Fenris was there, too, Guarding the rear, hunting, protecting the sorry lot. 

The fire was mostly burned down; the group has settled down for the night. Anders was sitting close to the dying flame, his coat drawn around him tightly. He kept throwing glances at Fenris sitting beside him. 

Finally, he cleared his throat. “We should reach a village tomorrow. We’ll be able to stock up on food so you won’t have to spend so much time hunting.”

“I don't mind, but as you wish,” Fenris simply said without looking up from where he was sharpening his sword, armour lying beside him ready to be cleaned. 

The elf had remained… distant since Kirkwall. They shared a tent but Fenris often kept to his own side, silent and brooding. The time had passed so fast, and also seemed to have dragged, especially without the contact between them. Fenris missed it but wasn't sure whether he was ready to return to their previous loving selves. He kept his head down and continued to sharpen his sword, the sound of the whetstone loud in the quiet between them. 

Anders winced and stared into the small fire, curling his arms around his knees. During the day, it wasn’t so bad; the mages kept talking to him, asking questions, discussing strategies, arcane lore, some grumping about hardships, others gushing about the numerous wonders they have discovered and rediscovered. There was a young boy Anders took a great liking to; the teen reminded him of his own rebellious former self. 

But the nights were so cold and lonely, and not just because of the chilly air. Anders knew the others huddled close for warmth, he was aware that they had at least three couples amongst them and that merely heightened his misery. He missed Fenris so fiercely, his heart bled. 

“Ask him,” Justice encouraged. “I miss him, too. He said he still loves you, he’s just hurt. He doesn’t understand; no-one is supposed to understand. But we can make amends still. Ask him. I’m here with you, my beloved mortal.”

Anders heaved a sigh and licked his lips, gathering all his courage. 

“Fenris… What should I do to make you trust me again?” The last words were barely audible. 

Fenris was silent for another few moments before he sighed and set his sword down into his lap, staring at it for a few moments before he looked up at Anders. “I don’t know. It’s not-- It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s difficult to explain. I still feel... ” The words trailed off and Fenris was obviously frustrated at his lack of words. The elf had never been especially eloquent, preferring to communicate in actions and noises than words, but now that obviously annoyed him. “I feel like you don’t trust _me_. You didn’t-- You didn’t tell me. I understand your reasoning, I think, but it still hurts. I don’t know how to stop it from hurting...”

The elf looked away and the only sound was the campfire crackling for a few seconds. “I thought we-- I thought we trusted each other with everything, and you didn’t trust me with this. You were prepared to die because of it and you. Didn’t. Tell. Me.” The sentence was cut up into words, frustration evident, especially in the slight wetness of Fenris’ eyes as the emotion that he’d been bottling up exploded and it all came out. “I miss having you in my arms, at my side, but I feel like you don’t trust me anymore and I can’t be with someone who doesn’t trust me enough to share his thoughts. It’s-- I’m sorry, I don’t think I can...” Fenris looked down into his lap and sniffled softly, angry at himself for the show of emotion and he wiped roughly at his eyes. 

“Fenris- Fenris, no, I do trust you!” Anders leaned closer, reaching out to grab Fenris’ hand. “Of course I trust you! I keep telling that to everyone here- That I trust you with my life. I kept silent because I knew you would stop me. It was an ugly thing… And you would have kept me…” He lowered his head. “You would’ve stayed me. If you had known that I was planning to die, you’d have asked me to not do it because you loved me and I couldn’t have resisted your plea. It hurt to keep it all a secret. I didn’t want to leave you… But some things are bigger than us.” Anders swallowed. “I knew you'd be upset with me for keeping you in the dark, and I thought… it’d lessen your pain when I was executed.” He scratched his head. “In hindsight, that reasoning wasn’t one of my brightest.”

“You think watching you die would ever be less than utter agony?” Fenris asked, clutching onto Anders’ hands. “I-- I can't say that I wouldn't have stopped you, but maybe we could have found a different way, a safer way, I don't… I don't know. Everything is just a ‘but’ and ‘what if’, we’ll never know. But I know that I love you and-- I want to go back to how we were. It'll be different, obviously, being on the road with all these mages, and I won't be able to tie you up and make you scream unless we can soundproof things…” Fenris grinned slightly, holding Anders’ hand in his. “But… maybe we can start again?”

Anders giggled like a Chantry choir boy and bumped his forehead against Fenris’ shoulder. “Yes, no ropes for a while indeed… but I’d very much like to start over. Perhaps with holding hands, sleeping together…” His eyes flared with Justice’s presence as he looked at the elf. “I’d love to start again.”

Fenris smiled and leaned close, tilting up Anders’ face to kiss him softly. Perhaps things wouldn't be so bad after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this was it! Hope you enjoyed, you filthy lechers. >3 Comments would be totes lovely because insecurities and all that.


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